Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889
The Bookstall
By Clinton Scollard (18601932)I
A quiet and restful nook,
Apart from the endless beat
Of the noisy heart of Trade;
There’s never a spot more cool
Of a hot midsummer day
By the brink of a forest pool,
Or the bank of a crystal brook
In the maples’ breezy shade,
Than the bookstall old and gray.
That were quarried long ago,
Some in vellum bound, and wrought
With 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 cold,
All puckered and brown and sear.
Live the monarchs of the brain:
And the lords of prose and rhyme,
Years after the long last sleep
Has come to the kings of earth
And their names have passed away,
Rule on through death and birth;
And the thrones of their domain
Are found where the shades are deep,
In the bookstall old and gray.