Oh that my words were now written! oh that they were printed in a book!—Job, xix. 23.
Of making many books there is no end; and much study is a weariness of the flesh.—Ecclesiastes, xii. 12.
There shall in no wise enter into it (the holy city) any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie: but they which are written in the Lamb’s book of life.—Revelation, xxi. 27.
Thy glass will shew thee how thy beauties wear,
Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste,
Thy vacant leaves thy mind’s imprint will bear,
And of this book this learning may’st thou taste:
The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show,
Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
Thou by the dial’s shady stealth may’st know