Читать книгу The Book-Lovers' Anthology - Various - Страница 48

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Books cannot always please, however good;

Minds are not ever craving for their food;

But sleep will soon the weary soul prepare

For cares to-morrow that were this day's care:

For forms, for feasts, that sundry times have past,

And formal feasts that will for ever last.

'But then from study will no comforts rise?'— Yes! such as studious minds alone can prize; Comforts, yea!—joys ineffable they find, Who seek the prouder pleasures of the mind: The soul, collected in those happy hours, Then makes her efforts, then enjoys her powers; And in those seasons feels herself repaid, For labours past and honours long delay'd. No! 'tis not worldly gain, although by chance The sons of learning may to wealth advance; Nor station high, though in some favouring hour The sons of learning may arrive at power; Nor is it glory, though the public voice Of honest praise will make the heart rejoice: But 'tis the mind's own feelings give the joy, Pleasures she gathers in her own employ— Pleasures that gain or praise cannot bestow, Yet can dilate and raise them when they flow.

G. Crabbe. The Borough.