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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365952" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Inn of Jasper Shrine</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The coast was rugged and storm-swept as<br>I battled it in the rain, <br>The cliffs reared up, then fell away<br>To a flat, deserted plain, <br>The sea beat up in a thunder on<br>The rocks that lined the shore, <br>When I saw the wreck of a wayside inn<br>And its open, swinging door.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It hadn't appeared on the map, I knew<br>As I'd studied the bleak terrain, <br>The thing that I'd come here looking for<br>Was a wreck from the Spanish Main, <br>It lay in fifteen fathoms there<br>With a load of gold moidores, <br>Chased inshore by a privateer<br>And sunk, so my uncle swore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He'd come on some ancient manuscripts<br>And the log of the Brig ‘Despair', <br>Washed up a hundred years ago<br>On the coastline near Llan Fair, <br>It roamed the seas three hundred years<br>Without a crew or a sail, <br>The log said most of the crew were dead<br>Tipped out by a great white whale.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The bones of the Captain, Peverell, <br>Lay slumped, right over the log, <br>It told of the Spanish galleon<br>And where it went down in the fog, <br>It told how the whale had tipped the brig<br>And broken the mast in two, <br>While the rest of the men had died of thirst<br>As it drifted, with the crew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I came to the shelter of the Inn<br>And could read the swinging sign, <br>It carried a skull and a bottle of rum<br>And a name, ‘The Jasper Shrine', <br>The door hung loose on its hinges and<br>Gave out a creak and a moan, <br>The wind howled in at the windows<br>As the timbers swayed and groaned.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The storm continued to rage outside<br>At least I was warm and dry, <br>I lay that night on the upper floor<br>And stared straight up at the sky, <br>The thatch had fallen in holes and rain<br>Came pouring down in a stream, <br>But I was tucked in a corner, dry, <br>And there I began to dream.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It must have been two o'clock or so<br>When I heard a ghostly tap, <br>Of someone shuffling with a crutch<br>Then a mighty thunderclap, <br>A lantern gave out a ghastly light<br>Threw shadows along the stair, <br>And then a woman, her voice rang out, <br>‘Oh what, and who is it there? '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I peered on down and could see the wench<br>Her bonnet trimmed with lace, <br>But the burly sailor standing there, <br>I couldn't quite see his face, <br>Their dress was that of another time<br>When pirates sailed the sea, <br>The sailor brought down his cane with a crash, <br>‘They call me Cap'n Teague.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘Some pottage girl, and a brace of rum<br>To warm this sailor's cheeks, <br>My ship's aground and my fate's undone<br>I'm stranded here for weeks! '<br>‘You'll need to show me the King's good coin<br>Before you bite or sup, <br>I've had you sailors before round here<br>And you're hard on paying up.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘I have a chest of dubloons, ' he said<br>Moidores, and Spanish lace, <br>My chest will be here in the morning, girl, <br>So lift your pretty face, <br>Shift and get me the vittals that<br>Will warm my aching bones…'<br>‘No rum, not even a little, '<br>Said the girl, and turned to go.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Teague had bellowed and crashed his cane<br>Across the wench's head, <br>She fell at the foot of the stairs, and groaned<br>As her bonnet turned blood red, <br>‘I'll serve myself you foolish wench<br>Do you dare to challenge me? '<br>But the girl had stirred, rolled over<br>And cried out, ‘By God, you'll see! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She pulled from out the folds of her dress<br>An ancient matchlock gun, <br>Cocked the trigger then aimed and fired<br>As the Captain turned and spun, <br>He hit the floor with a cry of pain<br>And the lantern flew out wide, <br>The light went out, and all I could hear<br>Was the sound of the turning tide.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I hid for the rest of the night, afraid<br>To venture down the stair, <br>I was cautious still in the morning<br>Thinking I'd find them dead down there, <br>But nothing lay in the dawning light<br>But the sign of time's contempt, <br>The floor was littered in seaweed and<br>Some old rat excrement.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My friend came up in a trawler<br>As we'd planned in the weeks before, <br>I'd quit the Inn for the final time<br>Took off through the swinging door, <br>We never came on the Spanish ship<br>But the Inn played on my mind, <br>I wondered, was it a dream or a ghost<br>At the Inn of Jasper Shrine? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">27 November 2012</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Lewis+Paget">David Lewis Paget</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365952" data-title="The Inn of Jasper Shrine de David Lewis Paget" data-description="The coast was rugged and storm-swept as
I battled it in the rain, 
The cliffs reared up, then fell away
To a flat, deserted plain, 
The sea beat up in a thunder on
The rocks that lined the shore, 
When I saw the wreck of a wayside inn
And its open..."></div>
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