Unto my Books-so good to turn-
Far ends of tired Days-
It half endears the Abstinence-
And Pain-is missed-in Praise-

As Flavors-cheer Retarded Guests
With Banquettings to be-
So Spices-stimulate the time
Till my small Library-

It may be Wilderness-without-
Far feet of failing Men-
But Holiday-excludes the night-
And it is Bells-within-

I thank these Kinsmen of the Shelf-
Their Countenances Kid
Enamor-in Prospective-
And satisfy-obtained-

Autor: Emily Dickinson