The Press

The Soldier may forget his sword
??The Sailorman the sea,
The Mason may forget the Word
??And the Priest his litany:
The maid may forget both jewel and gem,
??And the bride her wedding-dress —
But the Jew shall forget Jerusalem
??Ere we forget the Press!

Who once hath stood through the loaded hour
??Ere, roaring like the gale,
The Harrild and the Hoe devour
??Their league-long paper bale,
And has lit his pipe in the morning calm
??That follows the midnight stress —
He hath sold his heart to the old Black Art
??We call the daily Press.

Who once hath dealt in the widest game
??That all of a man can play,
No later love, no larger fame
??Will lure him long away.
As the war-horse smelleth the ............