The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince Edited by R. A. Douglas Lithgow |
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| VIII. | No. VIII.
“THE PEN AND THE PRESS.” |
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 | The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince |  |
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No. VIII. “THE PEN AND THE PRESS.”
Young Genius walked out by the mountains and streams,
Entranced by the power of his own pleasant dreams,
Till the silent, the wayward, the wandering thing,
Found a plume that had dropped from a passing bird's wing:
Exulting and proud, like a boy at his play,
He bore the new prize to his dwelling away;
He gazed for awhile on its beauties, and then
He cut it, and shaped it, and called it a Pen.
Entranced by the power of his own pleasant dreams,
Till the silent, the wayward, the wandering thing,
Found a plume that had dropped from a passing bird's wing:
Exulting and proud, like a boy at his play,
He bore the new prize to his dwelling away;
He gazed for awhile on its beauties, and then
He cut it, and shaped it, and called it a Pen.
But its magical use he discovered not yet,
Till he dipped its bright lips in a fountain of jet;
And, Oh! what a glorious thing it became,
For it spoke to the world in a language of flame;
While its master wrote on like a being inspired,
Till the hearts of the millions were melted or fired;
It came as a boon and a blessing to men,—
The peaceful, the pure, the victorious Pen!
Till he dipped its bright lips in a fountain of jet;
And, Oh! what a glorious thing it became,
For it spoke to the world in a language of flame;
While its master wrote on like a being inspired,
Till the hearts of the millions were melted or fired;
It came as a boon and a blessing to men,—
The peaceful, the pure, the victorious Pen!
Young Genius went forth on his rambles once more,
The vast, sunless caverns of earth to explore;
He searched the rude rock, and with rapture he found
A substance unknown, which he brought from the ground;
He fused it with fire, and rejoiced at the change,
As he moulded the ore into characters strange,
Till his thoughts and his efforts were crowned with success,
For an engine uprose, and he called it a Press!
The vast, sunless caverns of earth to explore;
He searched the rude rock, and with rapture he found
A substance unknown, which he brought from the ground;
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As he moulded the ore into characters strange,
Till his thoughts and his efforts were crowned with success,
For an engine uprose, and he called it a Press!
The Pen and the Press, blest alliance! combined
To soften the heart and enlighten the mind;
For that to the treasures of Knowledge gave birth,
And this sent them forth to the ends of the earth;
Their battles for truth were triumphant indeed,
And the rod of the tyrant was snapped like a reed;
They were made to exalt us, to teach us, to bless,
Those invincible brothers, the Pen and the Press!
To soften the heart and enlighten the mind;
For that to the treasures of Knowledge gave birth,
And this sent them forth to the ends of the earth;
Their battles for truth were triumphant indeed,
And the rod of the tyrant was snapped like a reed;
They were made to exalt us, to teach us, to bless,
Those invincible brothers, the Pen and the Press!
| The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince | |