A pageant of poets and other poems By James Chapman Woods |
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 | A pageant of poets and other poems |  |
(I)
What long delight the cherished books ensure
Which for a wasting day my shelves immure,
Till, torn apart, I toward the Darkness slide!
In Books of Hours where Pucks and Goblins glide
Empanelled round the lustrous Miniature:—
Which for a wasting day my shelves immure,
Till, torn apart, I toward the Darkness slide!
In Books of Hours where Pucks and Goblins glide
Empanelled round the lustrous Miniature:—
In Cradle-books that sprang with Types mature
From clumsy Presses vagrant and obscure,
Fast shut with carven clasps in figured hide,
What long delight!
From clumsy Presses vagrant and obscure,
Fast shut with carven clasps in figured hide,
What long delight!
In copper-plates whose gloss and bloom endure,
Cut deep by Hollar, Gravelot or Le Sueur:—
In bindings where the golden trails divide
Round shields of priest or king or harlot's pride:—
In Anonymes that baffle and allure:—
In book-plates on the cover's virgin side,
(Send Fortune, soon, a Pepys or a Hewer,)
What long delight!
Cut deep by Hollar, Gravelot or Le Sueur:—
In bindings where the golden trails divide
Round shields of priest or king or harlot's pride:—
In Anonymes that baffle and allure:—
In book-plates on the cover's virgin side,
(Send Fortune, soon, a Pepys or a Hewer,)
What long delight!
| A pageant of poets and other poems | |