I care not who the man may be, <br />Nor how his tasks may fret him, <br />Nor where he fares, nor how his cares <br />And troubles may beset him, <br />If books have won the love of him, <br /> <br />Whatever fortune hands him, <br />He'll always own, when he's alone, <br />A friend who understands him. <br />Though other friends may come and go, <br />And some may stoop to treason, <br />His books remain, through loss or gain, <br /> <br />And season after season <br />The faithful friends for every mood, <br />His joy and sorrow sharing; <br />For old time's sake, they'll lighter make <br />The burdens he is bearing. <br />Oh, he has counsel at his side, <br /> <br />And wisdom for his duty, <br />And laughter gay for hours of play <br />And tenderness and beauty, <br />And fellowship divinely rare, <br />True friends who never doubt him, <br />Unchanging love, and God above, <br />Who keeps good books about him.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-fellowship-of-books/
