The Books They Show

A certain rich man bought a book.

It had a most impressive look--

'Twas bound in leather, richly tooled

And penned by one most wisely schooled.

Full many a poor man passing by

Had seen it with an envious eye

And by his sigh made plainly known

His wish so rare this book to own.

To drain those pages shining bright

He would have read throughout the night.

 

A certain poor man stopped and found

The self-same volume paper bound

And gladly for this precious tome

Paid 50 cents and took it home.

Each night he sat and page by page

He drunk in the wisdom of the age

And made before he'd reached the end

The man who abridged it his friend,

Claimed the knowledge for his own

And by this book had wiser grown.

 

A friend beside the rich man's shelf

Exclaimed, "Why I've this same book myself.

Yours is a handsomer copy, though,

You've read it?" Exclaimed the right man, "No.

Someday I may but now indeed

I find I haven't time to read."

And then he spoke on noble thought and said,

"I wish that knowledge could be ought like bread.

I can but books but this I find.

Study alone improves the mind."

 

Oh you who read with eager eyes

The treasures that the rich man buys, know this

Though all men have of gold

Knowledge is neither bought nor sold.

Pages by fingers must be turned,

And knowledge is neither bought nor sold.

Oh you who read what prophets write

And sit with them throughout the night

Know more than they will ever know

Who never read the books they show.

                         (Edgar A. Guest)

 

Luke 1:37, For with God nothing shall be impossible.