Shut Not Your Doors

Shut not your doors to me, proud libraries,
For that which was lacking on all your well-fill’d shelves,
　　　yet needed most, I bring;
Forth from the army, the war emerging--a book I have made,
The words of my book nothing--the drift of it everything;
A book separate, not link’d with the rest, nor felt by the
　　　intellect, 5
But you, ye untold latencies, will thrill to every page;