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 snuffeth the battle afar,
The entered Soul, no less,
He saith: "Ha! Ha!" where the trumpets are
And the thunders of the Press!
Canst thou number the days that we fulfill,
Or the Times that we bring forth?
Canst thou send the lightnings to do thy will,
And cause them reign on earth?
Hast thou given a peacock goodly wings,
To please his foolishness?
Sit down at the heart of men and things,
Companion of the Press!
The Pope may launch his Interdict,
The Union its decree,
But the bubble is blown and the bubble is pricked
By Us and such as We.
Remember the battle and stand aside
While Thrones and Powers confess
That King over all the children of pride
Is the Press--the Press--the Press!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Related quotes
Press
Darling, I love you very, very, very much,
And I really am relying on your touch.
But with all these people listening in,
I dont know where I ought to begin.
Maybe we could hit upon a word,
Something that the others havent heard,
When you want me to love you,
Just tell me to press.
Right there, thats it. yes. when you feel the stress
Dont just stand there, tell me to press.
You can give me what I want I must confess,
My body needs attention my mind is in a mess,
Oklahoma was never like this.
Never like this, it was never like this,
Ever like this, say was it ever like this?
Oklahoma was never like this.
It was never like this ...
Darling, I know it really wouldnt be a crime,
If I say I want to lnve you all the time.
But with all these people listening in,
I dont know where I ought to begin.
Maybe we should have a secret code,
Before we both get ready to explode.
When you want me to love you,
Just tell me to press. press ...
Right there, thats it. yes.
When you feel the stress,
Dont just stand there.
Wont you tell me to press?
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nixon, who spent much of his career attacking the press and saying he was a victim of the press, was in fact created by the press, in this case the L.A. Times.
quote by David Halberstam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am very much aware that if I am getting good press at the moment I could just as easily be getting bad press. I cannot have the good and forget the bad. You have to accept it both ways.
quote by Damon Hill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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T Baggin' Skit
[Dial Tone]
[Numbers being pressed]
Hello, Thank you for calling Disturbing Tha Peace.
To help expodate your call, please listen carefully to the following options.
If you're calling to solicit to a demo tape, press 1.
If you're calling regarding a job, press 2.
If you're calling to borrow money, press 3.
If you're calling to find the nearest weed spot in your area, press 4.
If you're out of alcohol on Sunday, press 5.
If you need a ho for the evening, press 6.
If you woke up with a hang over, and a pair of hairy balls on your forehead, press 7
7.
[Number gets pressed]
You've just pressed 7.
You've been victimized and introduced to a moral crime known as t baggin'.
We suggest you probably hang up the phone,
Beat the ass of any white guys you hung out with last night
and find and destroy all photos before they appear on the internet.
Thank you for calling.
Good luck.
Goodbye
[Dial Tone]
song performed by by Ludacris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are some people that the press like to pick on and not just the gay press, but the press in general. And some people, the press just doesn't care about at all.
quote by Nathan Lane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some do not like it when the poems are sad
as there's a lot of life to push so hard push through
voice heard praying to be died out
too many tears already cried out
a dropp falling down further than the ground
they will not call it won't make this sound
of their own press hard press deep to forget
pump the heart hard to break and not to let
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Forget Not Yet
Forget not yet the tried intent
Of such a truth as I have meant
My great travail so gladly spent
Forget not yet.
Forget not yet when first began
The weary life ye knew, since whan
The suit, the service, none tell can,
Forget not yet.
Forget not yet the great assays,
The cruel wrongs, the scornful ways,
The painful patience in denays
Forget not yet.
Forget not yet, forget not this,
How long ago hath been, and is,
The mind that never means amiss;
Forget not yet.
Forget not yet thine own approved,
The which so long hath thee so loved,
Whose steadfast faith yet never moved,
Forget not this.
poem by Sir Thomas Wyatt
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Forget Not Yet The Tried Intent
Forget not yet the tried intent
Of such a truth as I have meant;
My great travail so gladly spent,
Forget not yet.
Forget not yet when first began
The weary life ye know, since whan
The suit, the service, none tell can;
Forget not yet.
Forget not yet the great assays,
The cruel wrong, the scornful ways;
The painful patience in denays,
Forget not yet.
Forget not yet, forget not this,
How long ago hath been and is
The mind that never meant amiss;
Forget not yet.
Forget not then thine own approved,
The which so long hath thee so loved,
Whose steadfast faith yet never moved;
Forget not this.
poem by Sir Thomas Wyatt
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Forget not yet: The Lover Beseecheth his Mistress not to Forget his Steadfast Faith and True Intent
FORGET not yet the tried intent
Of such a truth as I have meant;
My great travail so gladly spent,
Forget not yet!
Forget not yet when first began
The weary life ye know, since whan
The suit, the service, none tell can;
Forget not yet!
Forget not yet the great assays,
The cruel wrong, the scornful ways,
The painful patience in delays,
Forget not yet!
Forget not! O, forget not this!--
How long ago hath been, and is,
The mind that never meant amiss--
Forget not yet!
Forget not then thine own approved,
The which so long hath thee so loved,
Whose steadfast faith yet never moved:
Forget not this!
poem by Sir Thomas Wyatt
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Forget Not Yet The Tried Intent
Forget not yet the tried intent
Of such a truth as I have meant;
My great travail so gladly spent,
Forget not yet.
Forget not yet when first began
The weary life ye know, since whan
The suit, the service, none tell can;
Forget not yet.
Forget not yet the great assays,
The cruel wrong, the scornful ways;
The painful patience in denays,
Forget not yet.
Forget not yet, forget not this,
How long ago hath been and is
The mind that never meant amiss;
Forget not yet.
Forget not then thine own approved,
The which so long hath thee so loved,
Whose steadfast faith yet never moved;
Forget not this.
poem by David McKee Wright
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Fare Thee Well
Fare thee well! and if for ever,
Still for ever, fare thee well:
Even though unforgiving, never
'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel.
Would that breast were bared before thee
Where thy head so oft hath lain.
While that placid sleep came o'er thee
Which thou ne'er canst know again;
Would that breast, by thee glanced over,
Every inmost thought could show!
Then thou wouldst at last discover
'Twas not well to spurn it so.
Though the world for this commend thee--
Though it smile upon the blow,
Even its praises must offend thee,
Founded on another's woe:
Though my many faults defaced me,
Could no other arm be found,
Than the one which once embraced me,
To inflict a cureless wound?
Yet, oh yet, thyself deceive not;
Love may sink by slow decay,
But by sudden wrench, believe not
Hearts can thus be torn away:
Still thine own its life retaineth,
Still must mine, though bleeding, beat;
And the undying thought which paineth
Is - that we no more may meet.
These are words of deeper sorrow
Than the wail above the dead;
Both shall live, but every morrow
Wake us from a widow'd bed.
And when thou wouldst solace gather,
When our child's first accents flow,
Wilt thou teach her to say 'Father!'
Though his care she must forego?
When her little hands shall press thee,
When her lip to thine is press'd
Think of him whose prayer shall bless thee,
Think of him thy love had bless'd!
Should her lineaments resemble
Those thou never more may'st see,
Then thy heart will softly tremble
With a pulse yet true to me.
All my faults perchance thou knowest,
All my madness none can know;
All my hopes where'er thou goest,
Wither, yet with thee they go.
Every feeling hath been shaken;
Pride, which not a world could bow,
Bows to thee--by thee forsaken,
Even my soul forsakes me now:
But 'tis done--all words are idle
Words from me are vainer still;
But the thoughts we cannot bridle
Force their way without the will.
Fare thee well! thus disunited,
Torn from every nearer tie
Sear 'd in heart, and lone, and blighted,
More than this I scarce can die.
Jehovah-Rophi. I Am the Lord That Healeth Thee
(Exodus, xv.26)
Heal us, Emmanuel! here we are,
Waiting to feel Thy touch:
Deep-wounded souls to Thee repair
And, Saviour, we are such.
Our faith is feeble, we confess,
We faintly trust Thy word;
But wilt Thou pity us the less?
Be that far from Thee, Lord!
Remember him who once applied,
With trembling, for relief;
"Lord, I believe," with tears he cried,
"Oh, help my unbelief!"
She too, who touch'd Thee in the press,
And healing virtue stole,
Was answer'd, "Daughter, go in peace,
Thy faith hath made thee whole."
Conceal'd amid the gathering throng,
She would have shunn'd Thy view;
And if her faith was firm and strong,
Had strong misgivings too.
Like her, with hopes and fears we come,
To touch Thee, if we may;
Oh! send us not despairing home,
Send none unheal'd away!
poem by William Cowper
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To A Child Embracing His Mother
Love thy mother, little one!
Kiss and clasp her neck again,—
Hereafter she may have a son
Will kiss and clasp her neck in vain.
Love thy mother, little one!
Gaze upon her living eyes,
And mirror back her love for thee,—
Hereafter thou mayst shudder sighs
To meet them when they cannot see.
Gaze upon her living eyes!
Press her lips the while they glow
With love that they have often told,—
Hereafter thou mayst press in woe,
And kiss them till thine own are cold.
Press her lips the while they glow!
Oh, revere her raven hair!
Although it be not silver-gray;
Too early Death, led on by Care,
May snatch save one dear lock away.
Oh, revere her raven hair!
Pray for her at eve and morn,
That Heaven may long the stroke defer,—
For thou mayst live the hour forlorn
When thou wilt ask to die with her.
Pray for her at eve and morn!
poem by Thomas Hood
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Some of the press who speak loudly about the freedom of the press are themselves the enemies of freedom. Countless people dare not say a thing because they know it will be picked up and made a song of by the press. That limits freedom.
quote by Geoffrey Fisher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Get over him
Forget his name
Forget his face
Forget his kiss
Forget the love that you once knew
Remember he has someone new
Forget him when the played your song
Remember when you cried all night long
Forget how close you once were
Remember he has chosed her
Forget how you memorized his walk
Forget the way he used to talk
Forget the things he used to say
Remember he has gone away
Forget his laugh forget his grim
Forget the dimples on his chin
Forget the way he held you tight
Remember he's with her tonight
Forget the time that went so fast
Forget the love that moved, its past
Forget he said he'd leave you never
Remember he's gone forever
poem by Angelica Santos
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Flesh and the Spirit, The
In secret place where once I stood
Close by the Banks of Lacrim flood,
I heard two sisters reason on
Things that are past and things to come.
One Flesh was call'd, who had her eye
On worldly wealth and vanity;
The other Spirit, who did rear
Her thoughts unto a higher sphere.
"Sister," quoth Flesh, "what liv'st thou on
Nothing but Meditation?
Doth Contemplation feed thee so
Regardlessly to let earth go?
Can Speculation satisfy
Notion without Reality?
Dost dream of things beyond the Moon
And dost thou hope to dwell there soon?
Hast treasures there laid up in store
That all in th' world thou count'st but poor?
Art fancy-sick or turn'd a Sot
To catch at shadows which are not?
Come, come. I'll show unto thy sense,
Industry hath its recompence.
What canst desire, but thou maist see
True substance in variety?
Dost honour like? Acquire the same,
As some to their immortal fame;
And trophies to thy name erect
Which wearing time shall ne'er deject.
For riches dost thou long full sore?
Behold enough of precious store.
Earth hath more silver, pearls, and gold
Than eyes can see or hands can hold.
Affects thou pleasure? Take thy fill.
Earth hath enough of what you will.
Then let not go what thou maist find
For things unknown only in mind."
poem by Anne Bradstreet
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Forget Him
forget his name
forget his face
forget his kiss
his warm embrace
forget the lovethat you once know
remember he has someone new
forget him when that played your song
remember when you cryed all night long
forget how close you once were
remember he has choose her
forget how you memorized his walk
forget the way he used to talk
forget the things he used to say
remember he has gone away
forget his laugh
forget his grin
forget the dimple on his chin
forget the way he held you fight
remember he's with her tonight
forget the time that went so fast
forget the love that moved'the past
forget he said he'd leave you never
remember he's gone forever
poem by Christane Darling
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Forget Him
Forget his name
Forget his face
Forget his kiss
His warm embrace
Forget the love that you once knew
Remember he has someone new
Forget him when they played your song
Remember when you cried all night long
Forget how close you once were
Remember he has chosen her
Forget how you memorized his walk
Forget the way he used to talk
Forget the things he used to say
Remember he has gone away
Forget his laugh, forget his grin
Forget the dimples on his chin
Forget the way he held you tight
Remember he's with her tonight
Forget the time that went so fast
Forget the love that moved it's passed
Forget he said he'd leave you never
Remember he's gone forever
poem by Lucy Pickford
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Forget Him
Forget his name,
Forget his Face,
Forget his kiss
His warm embrace
Forget the love you once knew
Remember he has someone new
Forget him when they played your song
Remember when you cried all night long
Forget how close you two were
Remember he has chosen her
Forget you memorized his walk
Forget the way he used to talk
Forget the things he used to say
Remember he has gone away
Forget his laugh
Forget his grin
Forget the dimple on his chin
Forget the way he held you tight
Remember he’s with her tonight
Forget the time that went so fast
Forget the love that moved its past
Forget he said he’d leave you never
Remember that he’s gone forever…
poem by Courtney Lynn
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Forget Him
forget his name
forget his face
forget his kiss
his warm embrace
forget the love that you once knew
remember he has someone new
forget him they played your song
remember when you cried all night long
forget how close you once were
remember he has chosen her
forget how you memorized his walk
forget the way he used to talk
forget the things he used to say
remember he has gone away
forget his laught, forget his grin
forget the dimples on his chin
forget the way he held you tight
remember he's with her tonight
forget the time that went so fast
forget the love that moved, it's past
forget he said he leave you never
remember he's gone forever
poem by Kristyann Celello
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