1930 Cedrus Yearbook

The Open ook None can sing of life that it has not sung, Or of death that it has not told; For the very things that are new to us To the open book are old. But the glory of it and of all its joy Exists in this fact. For look! Whereas all things in it to it are old Age comes not to the open book. I sing of a thing that lives with the world,— Lives as long and is just as new. For the next race of men will learn those things That the last race taught to you. But what would be old to you and the book, And the world, to them is new. And they love the world, and the sun, and the moon, For they're new,—and the book is, too. So pray let me sing of the trusted tome Which has brought us through to the dawn, Which along with the world, the stars, and home Will exist when we pass on, And will shed their sweet light forever new Like the sunlight, in each nook. I sing not of binding, or print, or gilt; I sing of the open book! F. M.