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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508500" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>My Hundred Books</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508500" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A thousand books my library<br> Contains;<br>And all are primed, it seems to me<br> With brains.<br>Mine are so few I scratch in thought<br> My head;<br>For just a hundred of the lot<br> I've read.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508500" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A hundred books, but of the best,<br> I can<br>With wisdom savour and digest<br> And scan.<br>Yet when afar from kin and kith<br> In nooks<br>Of quietness I'm happy with<br> Sweet books.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=508500" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">So as nine hundred at me stare<br> In vain,<br>My lack I'm wistfully aware<br> Of brain;<br>Yet as my leave of living ends,<br> With looks<br>Of love I view a hundred friends,<br> My books.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</a></strong></div>

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