Edna St. Vincent Millay - Tavern lyrics

I'll keep a little tavern  Below the high hill's crest, Wherein all grey-eyed people  May set them down and rest. There shall be plates a-plenty,  And mugs to melt the chill Of all the grey-eyed people  Who happen up the hill. There sound will sleep the traveller,  And dream his journey's end, But I will rouse at midnight  The falling fire to tend. Aye, 'tis a curious fancy—  But all the good I know Was taught me out of two grey eyes  A long time ago.