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Read more poems by Robert Service: Robert Service Poems at Poetry X.

A thousand books my library
          Contains;
And all are primed, it seems to me
          With brains.
Mine are so few I scratch in thought
          My head;
For just a hundred of the lot
          I've read.

A hundred books, but of the best,
          I can
With wisdom savour and digest
          And scan.
Yet when afar from kin and kith
          In nooks
Of quietness I'm happy with
          Sweet books.

So as nine hundred at me stare
          In vain,
My lack I'm wistfully aware
          Of brain;
Yet as my leave of living ends,
          With looks
Of love I view a hundred friends,
          My books.

Added: 29 Jun 2002 | Last Read: 5 Dec 2008 10:22 AM | Viewed: 2222 times

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