 | Rhymes with reason and without |  |
11
THE VOICE OF THE PRESS.
How some men glory in the trophies olden,
Won from the hiding dust of grim decay,
Prizing each time-worn trifle more than golden,
That long in cobweb gloom hath lain away!—
Won from the hiding dust of grim decay,
Prizing each time-worn trifle more than golden,
That long in cobweb gloom hath lain away!—
Searching in garrets and in dark haunts dismal,
Where the lone spider holds exclusive reign;
Plunging in cellars, 'mid their depths abysmal,
Relics of eld in triumph to obtain!
Where the lone spider holds exclusive reign;
Plunging in cellars, 'mid their depths abysmal,
Relics of eld in triumph to obtain!
Thus went a seeker on a day exploring,
Curiously peeping in each musty paper;
Behind old wainscots, and 'neath ancient flooring,
Each nook illuming with a sickly taper.
Curiously peeping in each musty paper;
Behind old wainscots, and 'neath ancient flooring,
Each nook illuming with a sickly taper.
Suddenly, standing on an elevation,
Peering high up on shelves above his head,
He heard a voice that to his trepidation
Said, in plain English, “Just get off my bed!”
Peering high up on shelves above his head,
He heard a voice that to his trepidation
Said, in plain English, “Just get off my bed!”
Closer he peered into the nook before him,
And marvelled much such utterance to hear;
Sounded the ceiling all around and o'er him,
With curiosity allied with fear!
And marvelled much such utterance to hear;
Sounded the ceiling all around and o'er him,
With curiosity allied with fear!
12
When, through the struggle of his yearning vision,
The darkness yielded to its earnestness,
Dimly appeared none other apparition
Than the worn relics of an ancient Press.
The darkness yielded to its earnestness,
Dimly appeared none other apparition
Than the worn relics of an ancient Press.
Grimly it rested in its corner dusty,
Where in forgetfulness obscure it lay;
Worm-eaten, old, and rickety, and rusty,
Memorial sad of days long passed away.
Where in forgetfulness obscure it lay;
Worm-eaten, old, and rickety, and rusty,
Memorial sad of days long passed away.
Gazing upon it with a wonder glowing,
Fancy endowed the ancient frame with tongue;
And, as he gazed, like music olden flowing,
This song it to the listener said or sung.
Fancy endowed the ancient frame with tongue;
And, as he gazed, like music olden flowing,
This song it to the listener said or sung.
| Rhymes with reason and without | |