THE ART OF PRINTING.Blestbe the memory of the Sage,Who taught the typographic pageTo teem with symbols, heav’n-design’d,The mute interpreters of mind.The world at length had learn’d to prizeThe art of speaking to the eyes,Which had, by modes whichCadmustaught,Giv’n immortality to thought;—WhenFaustus, by celestial skill,Found means to multiply at will,Those silent heralds of the kind,Which give ubiquity to mind,—Explored that Art, which brings to view,All that we know—our father’s knew,—And which developes every hourThat knowledge, which results in power,—That Art, which gives to man’s controlCelestial treasures of the soul,Transcending, many thousand fold,Golconda’s gems, and Ophir’s gold.What but the Printer’s Art sublime,Can register the deeds of time,Recording all that’s said and doneMost worthy note beneath the sun?The poet, patriot, saint and sageHave habitations on his page,Are never absent when you call,Alike accessible to all.He introduces man to man,Of every nation, tribe or clan,The humble to the high—Most High,In palaces above the sky.Then bless the memory of the sage,Who taught the typographic pageTo teem with symbols, heav’n-design’d,The silent heralds of the mind.
Blestbe the memory of the Sage,Who taught the typographic pageTo teem with symbols, heav’n-design’d,The mute interpreters of mind.The world at length had learn’d to prizeThe art of speaking to the eyes,Which had, by modes whichCadmustaught,Giv’n immortality to thought;—WhenFaustus, by celestial skill,Found means to multiply at will,Those silent heralds of the kind,Which give ubiquity to mind,—Explored that Art, which brings to view,All that we know—our father’s knew,—And which developes every hourThat knowledge, which results in power,—That Art, which gives to man’s controlCelestial treasures of the soul,Transcending, many thousand fold,Golconda’s gems, and Ophir’s gold.What but the Printer’s Art sublime,Can register the deeds of time,Recording all that’s said and doneMost worthy note beneath the sun?The poet, patriot, saint and sageHave habitations on his page,Are never absent when you call,Alike accessible to all.He introduces man to man,Of every nation, tribe or clan,The humble to the high—Most High,In palaces above the sky.Then bless the memory of the sage,Who taught the typographic pageTo teem with symbols, heav’n-design’d,The silent heralds of the mind.
Blestbe the memory of the Sage,Who taught the typographic pageTo teem with symbols, heav’n-design’d,The mute interpreters of mind.
Blestbe the memory of the Sage,
Who taught the typographic page
To teem with symbols, heav’n-design’d,
The mute interpreters of mind.
The world at length had learn’d to prizeThe art of speaking to the eyes,Which had, by modes whichCadmustaught,Giv’n immortality to thought;—
The world at length had learn’d to prize
The art of speaking to the eyes,
Which had, by modes whichCadmustaught,
Giv’n immortality to thought;—
WhenFaustus, by celestial skill,Found means to multiply at will,Those silent heralds of the kind,Which give ubiquity to mind,—
WhenFaustus, by celestial skill,
Found means to multiply at will,
Those silent heralds of the kind,
Which give ubiquity to mind,—
Explored that Art, which brings to view,All that we know—our father’s knew,—And which developes every hourThat knowledge, which results in power,—
Explored that Art, which brings to view,
All that we know—our father’s knew,—
And which developes every hour
That knowledge, which results in power,—
That Art, which gives to man’s controlCelestial treasures of the soul,Transcending, many thousand fold,Golconda’s gems, and Ophir’s gold.
That Art, which gives to man’s control
Celestial treasures of the soul,
Transcending, many thousand fold,
Golconda’s gems, and Ophir’s gold.
What but the Printer’s Art sublime,Can register the deeds of time,Recording all that’s said and doneMost worthy note beneath the sun?
What but the Printer’s Art sublime,
Can register the deeds of time,
Recording all that’s said and done
Most worthy note beneath the sun?
The poet, patriot, saint and sageHave habitations on his page,Are never absent when you call,Alike accessible to all.
The poet, patriot, saint and sage
Have habitations on his page,
Are never absent when you call,
Alike accessible to all.
He introduces man to man,Of every nation, tribe or clan,The humble to the high—Most High,In palaces above the sky.
He introduces man to man,
Of every nation, tribe or clan,
The humble to the high—Most High,
In palaces above the sky.
Then bless the memory of the sage,Who taught the typographic pageTo teem with symbols, heav’n-design’d,The silent heralds of the mind.
Then bless the memory of the sage,
Who taught the typographic page
To teem with symbols, heav’n-design’d,
The silent heralds of the mind.