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TO A SMALL LIBRARY PATRON

Uncombed, a bit unwashed, with freckled face,

And slowly moving jaws—implying gum;

A decade's meagre dignity of years

Upon your head—your only passports these,

All unconcerned you enter—Fairyland!

For here dwell monstrous Jinn, and great birds fly

Through haunted valleys sown with diamonds.

Here Rumpelstiltskin hides his secret name,

The talking Flounder comes at beck and call,

The King of Lilliput reviews his troops,

The Jabberwock and Bandersnatch cavort,

And mice and pumpkin change to coach and four.

Once more for you is Sherwood's forest green,

Where arrows hiss and sword and shield resound;

Within these walls shall you and Crusoe stand

Aghast, to see the footprint on the beach;

From here you start your journey to the Moon,

Cruise on the raft with Huckleberry Finn,

Or sentinel the mouth of Cudjo's Cave.

Here, when your years have doubled, shall you see

King Henry and his men on Crispin's Day,

The Scottish thane hold parley with the hags,

Sir Richard Grenville fight the Spanish fleet,

Great Hector and Achilles face to face!

This is your Palos whence you turn your prow

To sail uncharted seas and find strange isles.

Here shall you stand with brave Leonidas;

Here watch old Davy Crockett fight and fall.

Amid these dusty shelves you'll see the glow

When Paul Jones lights his battle-lanterns here;

Muskets shall roar and tomahawks shall flash

In many deep and dismal forest glades.

Here shall you see the Guillotine at work!

And mark the Sun of Austerlitz arise.

Again, you'll bide the Redcoats on the Hill,

Or watch the fight on Cemetery Ridge.

But you—with towsled hair and stockings torn,

Irreverent and calm and unabashed,

Intent on swiping Billy Johnson's cap—

You pass the magic portal unaware,

And, careless, saunter into lands of gold.