I had found the secret of a garret room
Piled high with cases in my father's name;
Piled high, packed large,--where, creeping in and out
Among the giant fossils of my past,
Like some small nimble mouse between the ribs
Of a mastodon, I nibbled here and there
At this or that box, pulling through the gap,
In heats of terror, haste, victorious joy,
The first book first. And how I felt it beat
Under my pillow, in the morning's dark,
An hour before the sun would let me read!
_Aurora Leigh, Bk. I_. E.B. BROWNING.
Come, and take choice of all my library,
And so beguile thy sorrow.
_Titus Andronicus, Act iv. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.
He furnished me
From mine own library with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
_Tempest, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.
There studious let me sit,
And hold high converse with the mighty dead;
Sages of ancient time, as gods revered,
As gods beneficent, who blest mankind
With arts, with arms, and humanized a world.
_The Seasons: Winter_. J. THOMSON.
POLONIUS.--What do you read, my lord?
HAMLET.--Words, words, words.
_Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.
O Reader! had you in your mind
Such stores as silent thought may bring,
O gentle Reader! you would find
A tale in everything.
_Simon Lee_. W. WORDSWORTH.
And choose an author as you choose a friend.
_Essay on Translated Verse_. EARL OF ROSCOMMON.
When the last reader reads no more.
_The Last Reader_. O.W. HOLMES.