I am back with the world: one more step to the goal
Thanks for reaching I render—Fust's help to Man's soul!
Mere mechanical help? So the hand gives a toss
To the falcon,—aloft once, spread pinions and fly,
Beat air far and wide, up and down and across!
My Press strains a-tremhle: whose masterful eye
Will be first, in new regions, new truth to descry?
Give chase, soul! Be sure each new capture consigned
To my Types will go forth to the world, like God's bread
—Miraculous food not for body but mind,