In an Old Bookshop by Mary Frances Sanford-1903
Here in the teeming city's heart
There is a place, where he who enters in
May shut away the tumult and the din
Of strife for bread, and bide awhile apart.
For here the master's of a might art,
With all their store of treasure, wait our will,
And in their presence, so benign and still,
Our clamourous cares grow silent and depart.
The fragrance of the past is everywhere:
Sun burnt Morocco and the Orient
Have lent their treasures worthily to dress
Wisdom profound and fancies heavenly fair,
Garnered in bygone years from lives long spent
Yet living thus in all their loveliness.