Explore "Unto my Books so Good to Turn" by Emily Dickinson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Unto my books so good to turn / Far ends of tired days; / It half endears the abstinence, / And pain is missed in praise.
As flavors cheer retarded guests / With banquetings to be, / So spices stimulate the time / Till my small library.
It may be wilderness without, / Far feet of failing men, / But holiday excludes the night, / And it is bells within.
I thank these kinsmen of the shelf; / Their countenances bland / Enamour in prospective, / And satisfy, obtained.