THE BOOK OF BOOKS

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Sep 23, 1858

THE BOOK OF BOOKS.

I HAVE a little book at home, it has been mine for years; There's many, many a leaf within that's blotted with my tears; The covers are defaced, and e'en the gilding worn with age, And pencil-marks are scattered round on almost every page.

My father gave this book to me, O, many years ago, When little of its real worth or import I could know; It pleased my fancy and my pride; I felt extremely grand That I had such a pretty book to carry in my hand.

But when the first great sorrow came—my loving father died, And broken-hearted, how I longed to lay down by his side— Within this book I found that God would comfort and would bless, And be a heavenly Father to the poor and fatherless.

When I am saddened or perplexed, with trials sore distressed, I read that he will surely "give the heavy-laden rest;" In every trouble of my life unto this Rock I flee, And sweet refreshing streams of love seem gushing out to me. Am. Messenger.