OLD BOOKS IN HEAVEN by AMOS RUSSEL WELLS

Heaven would lose its heavenly looks
Had heaven no books;
And even there, I firmly hold,
They must grow old,
To range along the jasper walls
In old book-stalls.

And heaven must have some money, too, --
Small change will do, --
For what so perfect paradise
As when one buys
A Boswell, say, a tome immense
For fifteen cents?

I hope they'll not consign to hell
That musty smell,
Dear token of the cobwebbed nooks
Crammed with old books.
'Tis honored far above the rose
By many a nose.

The streets of gold, I hope and trust,
Have some slight dust;
Old books would wear an awkward mien
Were they too clean,
Unsprinkled with the symbol sage
Of hoary age.

And finally, my prayer is bold,
That heaven will hold
Some wrapping paper and some twine,
And be it mine
To carry home the bulky charm
Beneath my arm!

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