Maurice F. Egan. From 'Songs and Sonnets.' 1885.
I read, O friend, no pages of old lore,
Which I loved well, and yet the flying days,
That softly passed as wind through green spring ways
And left a perfume, swift fly as of yore,
Though in clear Plato's stream I look no more,
Neither with Moschus sing Sicilian lays,
Nor with bold Dante wander in amaze,
Nor see our Will the Golden Age restore.
I read a book to which old books are new,
And new books old. A living book is mine—
In age, three years: in it I read no lies—
In it to myriad truths I find the clew—
A tender, little child: but I divine
Thoughts high as Dante's in its clear blue eyes.
EPIGRAM.
Evenus (the grammarian). Rendered into English by A. Lang
in the 'Library.' 1881.
Pest of the Muses, devourer of pages, in crannies hat lurkest,
Fruits of the Muses to taint, labor of learning to spoil;
Wherefore, O black-fleshed worm! wert thou born for the evil thou workest?
Wherefore thine own foul form shap'st thou with envious toil?
THE BIBLIOMANIA.
Hic, inquis, veto quisquam fuit oletum.
Pinge duos angues.
Pers. Sat. i. l. 108.
John Ferriar. "An Epistle to Richard Heber, Esq."
Manchester, April, 1809.