In the quiet corners of a library vast,
Where whispers of wisdom from the past,
Echo softly through the aisles,
And knowledge waits in endless piles.

Pages rustle like autumn leaves,
Each book a world that one believes,
To be true, to be grand,
With adventures that so expand.

The scent of paper, old and wise,
Invites the curious, the eager eyes,
To delve into stories untold,
To find treasures more precious than gold.

In these hallowed halls of thought,
Every reader finds what they sought,
A refuge, a quest, a place to be,
In the silent embrace of the library.