THE BIBLIOMANIAC'S PRAYER by Eugene Field: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
A book-obsessed collector asks God for the strength to stop buying more books — then promptly requests a truly amazing one anyway.
The poem
Keep me, I pray, in wisdom's way That I may truths eternal seek; I need protecting care to-day,-- My purse is light, my flesh is weak. So banish from my erring heart All baleful appetites and hints Of Satan's fascinating art, Of first editions, and of prints. Direct me in some godly walk Which leads away from bookish strife, That I with pious deed and talk May extra-illustrate my life. But if, O Lord, it pleaseth Thee To keep me in temptation's way, I humbly ask that I may be Most notably beset to-day; Let my temptation be a book, Which I shall purchase, hold, and keep, Whereon when other men shall look, They'll wail to know I got it cheap. Oh, let it such a volume be As in rare copperplates abounds, Large paper, clean, and fair to see, Uncut, unique, unknown to Lowndes.
A book-obsessed collector asks God for the strength to stop buying more books — then promptly requests a truly amazing one anyway. The poem humorously captures this contradiction: the speaker recognizes that his obsession is a bit absurd, yet he enjoys it too much to really quit. It's a lighthearted, self-aware chuckle at how collectors can elevate their passion to a nearly sacred level.
Line-by-line
Keep me, I pray, in wisdom's way / That I may truths eternal seek;
But if, O Lord, it pleaseth Thee / To keep me in temptation's way,
Tone & mood
Playful and self-mocking throughout, Field adopts the formal, reverent tone of a church prayer — using iambic tetrameter and rhyming quatrains — while humorously exploring the undignified obsessions of a book collector. The humor is gentle, not harsh; the speaker isn’t ashamed of his passion, just amused by his inability to resist it. There’s a genuine warmth, the kind that emerges from laughing at oneself.
Symbols & metaphors
- The prayer form — By presenting the poem as an actual prayer, Field transforms book-collecting into a spiritual challenge. This structure suggests that for a genuine bibliomaniac, the longing for rare books is just as significant as any moral temptation — like lust, greed, or pride. The humor lands effectively because the form is so earnest.
- First editions and prints — These represent all worldly temptations. While a traditional prayer might mention wine, gambling, or vanity, the speaker in Field's poem highlights the specific treasures that a Victorian book collector would desire. They act as his personal sins—irresistible, a bit shameful, and profoundly cherished.
- The uncut, unknown-to-Lowndes volume — An "uncut" book (with pages that have never been trimmed or opened) signifies a pristine, untouched copy — the holy grail for collectors. A book missing from Lowndes's authoritative bibliography would be a find that no one else has recorded. Together, they embody the collector's ultimate prize: something rare, perfect, and uniquely theirs.
- Light purse / weak flesh — The phrase reflects the New Testament warning that "the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak." Field uses it to express that his wallet is just as unreliable as his willpower — both tend to fail him when a good book comes along. It connects the collector's financial recklessness to a common human flaw.
Historical context
Eugene Field was a newspaper columnist and poet in Chicago who gained popularity in the 1880s and 1890s for his light verse, children's poems, and clever observations on everyday life. He was also a true and passionate book collector—this was no mere act. "The Bibliomaniac's Prayer" expresses that obsession directly. During the Victorian era, book collecting was a serious pastime for educated men, complete with its own reference materials (notably Lowndes's *Bibliographer's Manual*), specialized terminology ("large paper" editions, "copperplates," "uncut" copies), and a culture of competitive acquisition. Field's poem provides an insider's view of that world, written by someone who understood the feeling of walking past a bookstore with an empty wallet and a longing gaze. It was included in his 1889 collection *A Little Book of Western Verse*.
FAQ
A book collector wishes for the willpower to stop buying books, then quickly prays for a really rare one at a great price. It's a comic poem that captures how a passion can feel like an addiction — you know you should quit, but deep down, you don't really want to.
William Thomas Lowndes (1798–1843) put together *The Bibliographer's Manual of English Literature*, which became the go-to reference for book collectors during the Victorian era. A book "unknown to Lowndes" would be incredibly rare, as it didn't even appear in the definitive catalogue — the holy grail for collectors.
Before the 20th century, books were frequently sold with their pages folded and untrimmed at the edges. Readers had to cut them open to read. An "uncut" copy meant no one had ever done this — the book remained in its original, untouched condition, which made it particularly valuable to collectors.
"Extra-illustration" (often referred to as Grangerizing) was a popular Victorian trend where people added additional prints, portraits, and engravings to a book beyond its original illustrations. Field plays with this concept by asking God to help him lead a more fulfilling and virtuous life — all while playfully nodding to the collector's tendency to cram more images into their books.
No — it's a playful take on a prayer. Field employs the formal tone and structure of religious devotion for comedic purposes. The punchline lies in the speaker treating his book-buying habit with the same seriousness that a devout individual would approach a real moral dilemma. The humor comes across as warm and affectionate, rather than disrespectful.
The poem consists of two stanzas, each containing twelve lines, crafted in iambic tetrameter and following a consistent ABAB rhyme scheme — neat, hymn-like, and structured. This formal discipline reflects the prayer genre it mimics. The tidy arrangement highlights the chaotic, self-contradictory content ("help me resist... actually, don't"), adding an element of humor through the contrast.
Publishers occasionally produced a limited number of copies of a book on larger, higher-quality paper compared to the standard edition. These "large paper" copies were considered luxury items, cherished by collectors for their ample margins and exceptional texture. When someone requests a large-paper copy, they are indicating their desire for the finest version available.
Yes, genuinely. Field was a passionate book lover who invested a lot in rare books over his lifetime. The poem isn’t just a clever twist — it draws from genuine experience. He understood the terminology, the reference materials, and the specific pain of longing for a book that’s likely out of reach.