The Pressisatoncethe eyeand the earand thetongue of the people.It isthe visible speech, if not the voice, of the democracy. It is the phonograph of the world.
He stood, and heard the steepleSprinkle the quarters on the morning town.One, two, three, four, to market-place and peopleIt tossed them down.Strapped, noosed, nighing his hour,He stood and counted them and cursed his luck;And then the clock collected in the towerIts strength, and struck.a. e. housman
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