Classic Poem

In this dull world of books and men
Where scarcely anything's worth heeding
And not much more than one in ten
Of men or books deserves a reading.

'Tis rapture now and then to find
A face or page, so rare in spirit —
So full of grace — so rich in mind
That it bears heaven's own seal of merit.

And if such page be given to song
The heart feels all its beauties nearer.
And if such lovely face belong
To woman — O! how much 'tis dearer!

Yet when alas! we've conned it o'er
And seen how many charms surround it,
How do we wish we'd found before,
Or if not then, had never found it!