almost knocked over by the loud sound of Willie Nelson

If only you'll leave me at peace with my Books.

And which are my books? why, 'tis much as you please,

For, given 'tis a book, it can hardly be wrong,

And Bradshaw himself I can study with ease,

Though for choice I might call for a Sermon or Song;

And Locker on London, and Sala on Cooks,

'Tom Brown,' and Plotinus, they're all of them Books.

There's Fielding to lap one in currents of mirth;