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Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton - Sonnet VIII
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TO MY BOOKS.

SILENT companions of the lonely hour, 
Friends, who can never alter or forsake, 
Who for inconstant roving have no power, 
And all neglect, perforce, must calmly take,-- 
Let me return to YOU; this turmoil ending 
Which worldly cares have in my spirit wrought, 
And, o`er your old familiar pages bending, 
Refresh my mind with many a tranquil thought: 
Till, haply meeting there, from time to time, 
Fancies, the audible echo of my own, 
`Twill be like hearing in a foreign clime 
My native language spoke in friendly tome, 
And with a sort of welcome I shall dwell 
On these, my unripe musings, told so well.
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