My favourite book when I was a child was The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. Many years later, my treasured copy, printed in 1933 emerges in a still life with a cup of tea and some dainty heart biscuits. Bliss!
“Alas, the Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youth’s sweet-scented Manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the Branches sang, Ah, whence, and whither flown again, who knows?”