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IN PRISON

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O happy be the day which gave that mind

Learning's first tincture—blest thy fostering care,

Thou most beloved of parents, worthiest sire!

Which, taste-inspiring, made the lettered page

My favourite companion: most esteemed,

And most improving! Almost from the day

Of earliest childhood to the present hour

Of gloomy, black misfortune, books, dear books,

Have been, and are, my comforts. Morn and night,

Adversity, prosperity, at home,

Abroad, health, sickness,—good or ill report,

The same firm friends; the same refreshment rich

And source of consolation. Nay, e'en here

Their magic power they lose not; still the same,

Of matchless influence in this prison-house,

Unutterably horrid; in an hour

Of woe, beyond all fancy's fictions drear.

W. Dodd. Thoughts in Prison.

The Book-Lovers' Anthology

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