Tarantella (Belloc)

Do you remember an inn,Miranda?Do you remember an inn?And the tedding and the spreadingOf the straw for a bedding,And the fleas that tease in the High Pyrenees,And the wine that tasted of tar?And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers(Under the dark of the vine veranda)?Do you remember an inn, Miranda?Do you remember an inn?And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteeersWho had n't got a penny,And who were n't paying any,And the hammer at the doors and the din?And the hip! hop! hap!Of the clapOf the hands to the twirl and the swirlOf the girl gone chancing,Glancing,Dancing,Backing and advancing,Snapping of a clapper to the spinOut and in—And the ting, tong, tang, of the guitar!Do you remember an inn,Miranda?Do you remember an Inn?

Never more;Miranda,Never more.Only the high peaks hoarAnd Aragon a torrent at the door.No soundIn the walls of the halls where fallsThe treadOf the feet of the dead to the ground.No sound;But the boomOf the far waterfall like doom.