A small inheritance! Oh, blesséd news,
And Mary cries for shoes— who cares for shoes?
Unreel the tape, my man, (ignore her looks),
And measure up new harbours for new books!
What joy for such as us are empty shelves
Who think more of our books than of ourselves,
Come master carpenter, there’s work here still:
The more new shelves you build, the more to fill!