The Soldier may forget his Sword, <br />The Sailorman the Sea, <br />The Mason may forget the Word <br />And the Priest his Litany: <br />The Maid may forget both jewel and gem, <br />And the Bride her wedding-dress-- <br />But the Jew shall forget Jerusalem <br />Ere we forget the Press! <br /> <br />Who once hath stood through the loaded hour <br />Ere, roaring like the gale, <br />The Harrild and the Hoe devour <br />Their league-long paper-bale, <br />And has lit his pipe in the morning calm <br />That follows the midnight stress-- <br />He hath sold his heart to the old Black Art <br />We call the daily Press. <br /> <br />Who once hath dealt in the widest game <br />That all of a man can play, <br />No later love, no larger fame <br />Will lure him long away. <br />As the war-horse snuffeth the battle afar, <br />The entered Soul, no less, <br />He saith: "Ha! Ha!" where the trumpets are <br />And the thunders of the Press! <br /> <br />Canst thou number the days that we fulfill, <br />Or the Times that we bring forth? <br />Canst thou send the lightnings to do thy will, <br />And cause them reign on earth? <br />Hast thou given a peacock goodly wings, <br />To please his foolishness? <br />Sit down at the heart of men and things, <br />Companion of the Press! <br /> <br />The Pope may launch his Interdict, <br />The Union its decree, <br />But the bubble is blown and the bubble is pricked <br />By Us and such as We. <br />Remember the battle and stand aside <br />While Thrones and Powers confess <br />That King over all the children of pride <br />Is the Press--the Press--the Press!<br /><br />Rudyard Kipling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-press/
