It Was A Childish Ignorance, But Now

My Books Kept Me From The Ring, The Dog-pit, The Tavern, And The Saloon.

But Evil Is Wrought By Want Of Thought, As Well As Want Of Heart!

Peace And Rest At Length Have Come, All The Day's Long Toil Is Past; And Each Heart Is Whispering, "home, Home At Last!"

Father Of Rosy Day, No More Thy Clouds Of Incense Rise; But Waking Flow'rs, At Morning Hours, Give Out Their Sweets To Meet Thee In The Skies.

Experience Enables Me To Depose To The Comfort And Blessing That Literature Can Prove In Seasons Of Sickness And Sorrow.