MY BOOKS,BY FREED ERIC COBB URN CLAKE. „Oh, books, •whose eloquence can charm the eyeWhen spoken words haTR lost their power to please.Whose printed thoughts do bring us rest, and easeWhen all the cold, coid world has pa-seedus by, IOur childhood friends! what days we used i to lie 1Beneath the deep, cool shade of maple trees,And spreading open on our little kneesThe fairy book! And how we used, to tdtfhAnd long to see some Ganneelot ride byUpon his horse toward the purple seaWhen- Guinerpre was waiting! Now, ah me!Though fairy (lays are past, still books are nighUpon my table, and my friends are freeTo turn the. pages as I be hours fly!