With a printing press, an iron stick,

And a little leaden die.

With paper of white, and ink of black,

I support the Right, and the Wrong attack.

Say, where is he, or who may he be,

That can rival the printer’s power?

To no monarchs that live the wall doth he give:

Their sway lasts only an hour;

While the printer still grows, and God only knows

When his might shall cease to tower!