Far o'er the town thy window looks,
Fair library, nor hears its din:
Shrine of the graver Muse's books,
Can gay Thalia venture in?

Upon thy lowest shelf may stand
These seven scrolls of wit and mirth
Purged throughly by the author's hand —
'Tis this alone that gives them worth —

Yet guard them well, be proud in them,
Though small my gift of love may be,
The world shall hail it as the gem
Of Julius' far-famed library.