Books

Though ne’er so humble should our station be,
We still may mingle with the great and wise;
Roam, unmolested, the vast treasuries
Where wisdom’s priceless gems are scattered free.
We may, at will, explore sky, earth and sea;
Man’s heart and mind probe deep with Shakespeare’s eyes;
With blind old Milton walk through paradise;
Of life and death possess the master-key.

With books as guides, with prophet, poet, sage,
In sweet companionship we daily dwell;
With kings sit nightly round the banquet board
By learning’s light knowledge’s gracious page
Shall render unto us a precious hoard
In an abundance inexhaustible.