The Press Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis


The Soldier may forget his SwordA
The Sailorman the SeaB
The Mason may forget the WordC
And the Priest his LitanyB
The Maid may forget both jewel and gemD
And the Bride her wedding dressE
But the Jew shall forget JerusalemF
Ere we forget the PressE
Who once hath stood through the loaded hourG
Ere roaring like the galeH
The Harrild and the Hoe devourG
Their league long paper baleH
And has lit his pipe in the morning calmI
That follows the midnight stressE
He hath sold his heart to the old Black ArtJ
We call the daily PressE
Who once hath dealt in the widest gameK
That all of a man can playL
No later love no larger fameK
Will lure him long awayL
As the war horse snuffeth the battle afarM
The entered Soul no lessE
He saith quot Ha Ha quot where the trumpets areM
And the thunders of the PressE
Canst thou number the days that we fulfillN
Or the Times that we bring forthO
Canst thou send the lightnings to do thy willN
And cause them reign on earthP
Hast thou given a peacock goodly wingsQ
To please his foolishnessR
Sit down at the heart of men and thingsQ
Companion of the PressE
The Pope may launch his InterdictS
The Union its decreeB
But the bubble is blown and the bubble is prickedS
By Us and such as WeB
Remember the battle and stand asideT
While Thrones and Powers confessE
That King over all the children of prideT
Is the Press the Press the PressE

Rudyard Kipling


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