My books and I are good old pals: My laughing books are gay, Just suited for my merry moods When I am wont to play. Bill Nye comes down to joke with me And, Oh, the joy he spreads. Just like two fools we sit and laugh And shake our merry heads. When I am in a thoughtful mood, With Stevenson I sit, Who seems to know I've had enough Of Bill Nye and his wit. And so, more thoughtful than I am, He talks of lofty things, And thus an evening hour we spend Sedate and grave as kings. And should my soul be torn with grief Upon my shelf I find A little volume, torn and thumbled, For comfort just designed. I take my little Bible down And read its pages o'er, And when I part from it I find I'm stronger than before. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EVENING SONG OF THE TYROLESE PEASANTS by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS TO RUSSIA by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER ON THE DEATH OF LITTLE MAHALA ASHCRAFT by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE FIELD MOUSE by WILLIAM SHARP |