What wild desires, what restless torments seize
The hapless man, who feels the book disease….
Like Poets, born, in vain Collectors strive
To cross their Fate, and learn the art to thrive..
The tyrant-passion drags them backward still:
Ev’n I, debarr’d of ease, and studious hours,
Confess, mid’ anxious toil, its lurking pow’rs.
Peter Roget
Peter Roget lived his whole live writing lists of words. The result of his work: Roget’s Thesaurus. At the end of his life he amassed a library of some 4,100 volumes.
I only have a couple hundreds and some of them are waiting to be read. Being a bibliomaniac is one of the sweetest of diseases. I found the poem while reading the biography of Peter Roget, author of the famous Thesaurus. I will write a review when finished.
Archivado bajo: At The Library, Books, Literature | Etiquetado: At The Library, bibliomania, bibliomaniac, Books, ferriar, libraries, library, peter roget, poem, reading
