The Press.
God said, “Let there be light !”1
Grim darkness felt his might,2
And fled away :3
Then startled seas, and mountains cold4
Shone forth all bright in blue and gold,5
And cried, “’Tis day, ’tis day !”6
“Hail, holy light !” exclaimed7
The thunderous cloud, that flamed8
O’er daisies white ;9
And, lo ! the rose, in crimson dress’d,10
Leaned sweetly on the lily’s breast,11
And blushing murmur’d, “Light !”12
Then was the skylark born :13
Then rose the embattled corn ;14
The streams of praise15
Flow’d o’er the sunny hills of noon ;16
And when night came, the pallid moon17
Pour’d forth her pensive rays.18
Lo, heaven’s bright bow is glad !19
Lo, trees and flowers, all clad20
In glory bloom !21
And shall the mortal sons of God22
Be senseless as the trodden clod,23
And darker than the tomb ?24
No, by the
Mind of Man !25
By the swart Artizan !26
By God, our Sire !27
Our souls have holy light within,28
And every form of grief and sin29
Shall see and feel its fire.30
By earth and hell and heaven31
The shroud of souls is riven ;32
Mind, mind alone33
Is light, and hope, and life, and power ;34
Earth’s deepest night, from this bless’d hour,35
The night of minds, is gone.36
The second Ark we bring:37
“ The Press !” all nations sing ;38
What can they less ?39
Oh ! pallid want ; oh ! labour stark ;40
Behold, we bring the second Ark—41
The Press ! the Press ! the Press !42