dread, with feet of lead, Came past them unawares. p. 79I know not why, but alway I Have found that it is so, That when the glum Researchers come The brutes of bogeys—go!

p. 79

p. 80TO THE GENTLE READER

p. 80

CONTENTS

‘A French writer (whom I love well) speaks of three kinds of companions,—men, women, and books.’

Sir John Davys.

Sir John Davys

Three kinds of companions, men, women, and books, Were enough, said the elderly Sage, for his ends. And the women we deem that he chose for their looks, And the men for their cellars: the books were his friends: ‘Man delights me not,’ often, ‘nor woman,’ but books Are the best of good comrades in loneliest nooks.

Three

For man will be wrangling—for woman will fret About anything infinitesimal small: Like the Sage in our Plato, I’m ‘anxious to get On the side’—on the sunnier side—‘of a wall.’ p. 81Let the wind of the world toss the nations like rooks, If only you’ll leave me at peace with my Books.

p. 81

And which are my books? why, ’tis much as you please, For, given ’tis a book, it can hardly be wrong, And Bradshaw himself I can study with ease, Though for choice I might call for a Sermon or Song; And Locker on London, and Sala on Cooks, ‘Tom Brown,’ and Plotinus, they’re all of them Books.

There’s Fielding to lap one in currents of mirth; There’s Herrick to sing of a flower or a fay; Or good Maître Françoys to bring one to earth, If Shelley or Coleridge have snatched one away: There’s Müller on Speech, there is Gurney on Spooks, There is Tylor on Totems, there’s all sorts of Books.

p. 82There’s roaming in regions where every one’s been, Encounters where no one was ever before, There’s ‘Leaves’ from the Highlands we owe to the Queen, There’s Holly’s and Leo’s adventures in Kôr: There’s Tanner who dwelt with Pawnees and Chinooks, You can cover a great deal of country in Books.

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