. Lyrics from a library . L 16 Jt. It stands in a winding street,A quiet and restful nook,Apart from the endless beatOf the noisy heart of never a spot more coolOf a hot midsummer dayBy the brink of a forest pool,Or the bank of a crystal brookIn the maples breezy shade,Than the bookstall old and grey. Here are preeious gems of thoughtThat were quarried long ago, Some in vellum bound, and wroughtWith letters and lines of gold;Here are curious rows of calf,And perchance an Elzevir;Here are countless mos of chaff,And a parchment folio,Like leaves that are cracked with coldAll puckere

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. Lyrics from a library . L 16 Jt. It stands in a winding street,A quiet and restful nook,Apart from the endless beatOf the noisy heart of never a spot more coolOf a hot midsummer dayBy the brink of a forest pool,Or the bank of a crystal brookIn the maples breezy shade,Than the bookstall old and grey. Here are preeious gems of thoughtThat were quarried long ago, Some in vellum bound, and wroughtWith letters and lines of gold;Here are curious rows of calf,And perchance an Elzevir;Here are countless mos of chaff,And a parchment folio,Like leaves that are cracked with coldAll puckered and brown and sere.

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidlyricsfromli, bookyear1913