 | [Poems by Hale in] The opal |  |
11
BOOKS.
A blessing on the Printer's art!Books are the Mentors of the heart.
The burning soul, the burdened mind,
In books alone companions find.
We never speak our deepest feelings,
Our holiest hopes have no revealings,
Save in the gleams that light the face,
Or fancies that the pen may trace.
And hence to books the heart must turn,
When with unspoken thoughts we yearn,
And gather from the silent page
The just reproof, the counsel sage,
The consolation kind and true,
That soothes and heals the wounded heart,
As on the broken plant the dew
Calls forth fresh leaves and buds to view,
More lovely as the old depart.
12
The trembling-hearted fain would rest,
No opiate like a book that charms,
With its deep spell, the mind's alarm
Opening, as Genius has the key,
Some haunt of mirth or mystery,
Or trusting faith, or tender love,
As vista to the heaven above;
Where the lone wandering one may come,
Refreshed and glad as though at home;
And feel the soul has wells of joy,
Like springs that gush in cavern's gloom,
And hopes like gold without alloy,
Or diamonds buried in a tomb.
| [Poems by Hale in] The opal | |