This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1860. Excerpt: ... THE PRESS. A Wobtht parson, once upon a time, Weary of list'ning to the sober rhyme That, of a winter's evening, chanced to fall From a young poet in a lecture hall, His disappointment openly confessed, And thus his censure to a friend confessed: --"The poem, Sir, is well enough no doubt, But so much preaching one could do without; A little wit had pleased me more by half; I did n't come to learn, I came to laugh " So goes the world; his very soul to save They will not let poor Harlequin be grave; But vote him weaker than a vestry-mouse, Unless, like Samson, he brings down the house Alas to-day, if such a rule prevail, My sober muse were surely doomed to fail; Her subject grave demands a serious song, And trivial treatment were ignobly wrong. Yet let me hope that e'er my song be done, When satire comes to punish with a pun, Some pleasant fancy may your hearts beguile, And win the favor of an answering smile. I sing the Press; 0 sweet Enchantress, bring Fit inspiration for the theme I sing, The Art of Arts, whose earliest, freshest fame, With fierce debate, three rival cities claim; The glorious art, that, scorning humbler birth, Came at a bound upon the wondering earth,1 Full-armed and strong her instant might to prove, A new Minerva from the brain of Jove I marvel not that rival towns dispute Where first the goddess set her radiant foot; That blest Mayence, with honest pride, should boast The wondrous Bible of her wizard Faust; That Haarlem, jealous of her proper fame, Erects a statue to her Coster's name; While Strasburg's cits contemning all beside, Vaunt their own hero with an equal pride. Plow shall the poet venture to explain Where plodding History labors still in vain To solve the mystery--the vexing doubt That only deepens with the deepening sho...