Poetry: Song Of The Editor

Sit! Sit! Sit!- Vrom matiii hour lili twilight gloom, He's a 'fixturc' there in his dusky routn! Awuy the monients flit, And the world ouíside, whh joyous din, Moves gaily on - but ihe woild wilhin ís labor, nnd toi!, and carel ! No turn knowa he n the'wéary dty But the tur.i ihát shows the pivot's ptay, As he turns liis ea?y chair! Tüinki Tiiink! Think! fn the smíth's bright forge thefire glows, But tilo smith himself the bellows blows- Uuheard the liammer's cünk! Not so tho firo tliai lights the brain Of him w'io wears the galley cliain, Or maltes thepress gang go: He must ílieh with ligh(, and gluw with heat, Wuh qoill in h iiund his brain must beat, But never indulge a. blow! Wnte! Write! VVnte! Though Foncy soar on a tired wing, 6he must still her tribute celestial bring, Nor own a weary flight! And Reason's powers, and Memory's Btore, Must prove tlieir strength, and brjng thc lore Antique, and sage, and myslic: - For tliesfj, to the uttermost tho't and partido, Alust goin lo-morrowa 'leading article'- Of argument - wil - statistici Lie.' Lie! Lie! If he happens to be a purty hack, Ho must echo the veil of the greedy pack, And shout the demon en! To Uonor's appeal he must never hurk, Dut ui.'n, likc Dcitth, at a shining mark, As he specds lhe poison'd dart! And then, when tlie battle so fierce is o'er, And ths victorsnpportion the captur'd store, 'l'lioir thanks shall be hia part!Clip! Clip! Clip!- No 'cabbnginj' ehears Iris hands doth hold, But those xv'uh which Ihe current gold tíy lawfnl right Iie'Jl cüp, - The 'Devil' ís gone, but Jie wíll not fui! Öf a prompt return tvith the morning mail' - A basket full of 'ezchanges - -And then tho editor opens and skim.H- Accidents - deaths - discoveries - whims- As over tlio vvorld ho ranges! Paste! Paste! Paste! Wilh camel'e bair brush and a broken cup, He gatbers the scatter'd paragraphs up, And sticks tlietu on in bnste: Tbo 'Devif appenrs wilii a grin and a bow - ?Please, sir, tbey're wnilin' for 'copy now,' He sayp, in accenlssolemn; 'The forema thiuku hc'll 60on impose The outside form with scrops of proae, And ilie leader may b8 a column!' Pay! Pay! Pay! The 'world' is done vvork on a Saturday night, And bounds with n step of gay delight To bis wife and babes away! But round the editor, seeí a ecore Oí honest 'joura wlio tease him sore- - And he may not be unbeedful;- Though brig-ht is the wit ihat can fumish there, The means to relieve them al) from care, Byshelling them out the needfuH'