There are books and there are roses

There are books and there are roses & there is love, but love is no longer the greatest of these. It will help a man forget the pangs of a lost religion but then in its turn it too is forgotten. Roses and books are better. Roses die and come again and their death smells as sweet as their life. Books are always under our hand & can be opened and closed and thrown aside at will, They are bound but we are free – a tolerable conceit.
There are books and there are roses … HTM