'Flee fro the Prees, and dwelle with sothfastnesse.' -- CHAUCER, Balade de Bon Conseil. THE Press is too much with us: small and great; We are undone of chatter and on dit, Report, retort, rejoinder, repartee, Mole-hill and mare's nest, fiction up-to-date, Babble of booklets, bicker of debate, Aspect of A., and attitude of B. -- A waste of words that drive us like a sea, Mere derelict of Ourselves, and helpless freight! 'O for a lodge in some vast wilderness!' Some region unapproachable of Print, Where never cablegram could gain access, And telephones were not, nor any hint Of tidings new or old, but Man might pipe His soul to Nature, -- careless of the Type! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOUGLAS, DOUGLAS, TENDER AND TRUE by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK RECESSIONAL by RUDYARD KIPLING THE LAST MAN: LIFE'S UNCERTAINTY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE LAST MAN: SPEAKER'S MEANING DIMLY DESCRIBED by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES TO MOLIERE by NICOLAS BOILEAU-DESPREAUX THE HIGHLAND LASSIE by ROBERT BURNS SONGS OF THE SEA CHILDREN: 77 by BLISS CARMAN TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. ELDER SOLDIER IN BROTHERHOOD TO THE YOUNGER by EDWARD CARPENTER |