Then, let us, with your kind permission, sing
A note or two about The Sanctum King.
But first the question, who this king of fame?
Whence comes his power, and what may be his name?
With modesty peculiar to the race,
No editor pretends to fill that place;
For editors, be rulers as they will,
Are greatly ruled by their surroundings still;
All men and things, to some extent, control
The journalist's intent and nervous soul.