Montaigne with his sheepskin blistered,
And Howell the worse for wear,
And the worm-drilled Jesuit’s Horace,
And the little old cropped Molière--
And the Burton I bought for a florin,
And the Rabelais foxed and flea’d--
For the others I never have opened,
But those are the ones I read.
--AUSTIN DOBSON.