Books are soldiers gaily dressed, standing grave and tall,
Like a halting regiment close against the wall;
They have marched through many lands, over meadows green,
Cities great and monuments and rivers they have seen;
All year long they wait to tell you wondrous things they know
If you'll only listen;—Soldiers in a row,
Tell me what you have to tell,
Of the things you know so well;
Tell me, soldiers, gaily dressed, standing grave and tall,
Like a halting regiment, close against the wall.
