Buchanan County bulletin. [volume] (Independence, Iowa) 1869-1891, 1877-08-10
THE PRINTERS NEED,

Read before the Editorial Association of the
Third District Of Iowa, ut its session in West
Union. Aug. nth, 1877. by J. w. Shannon, OF the
Elkader Journal. Published by request of the
Association
My Brothers of the ever wond'rous hand
mat thrums. with wing of thought, the organ
grand,
Whose keyboard answers flying fingers sweep
With rolling anthem, loud, and rich and deep,
~ winch the song OF steam's but single note
mat on the driving winds of commerce floats;
without which commerce wheels and spindles
hum,
And voice of rafting loom and lathe were
dumb;
My Brothers of the ever wondrous might
or mind, that lifts from darkness into light
world, else low in ignorance and gloom
That breaks each chain meath Freedoms burn
ing noon
With {, aI%1 lex power, almost divine,
Bids l1dless eye of Swaying engine shine
AdOwn the welded lines of iron bars
To lead wise East to Western Empires stars;
Brothers of the grand nobility of soul,
That dares stand out in light it's own hand
holds,
AS clear clOck-wOrk in crystal cover wrought,
And challenge prying world to search its
That prints its inmost self, its hopes and fears,
Its frequent joys, its frequent burning tears,
Its CRUDE IMPRESSIONS, with its ripper creeds,
On hurried sheet for all the world to read!
Such fiery manhood test as never falls
Elsewhere-this side of final judgment halls;
Full well know the trying tolls you bear,
The cumb'rous load of cank' ring care,
The harness sores they rasp who, brainless,
Snecr,
And still more poign-ted grief from loss of
shears;
know blue Mondays frantic hurdle race
When all the acids not in the ancient paste,
Nor all the blue i'm shining poster can,
Nor Mo- black in towel that in corner stands.
When u ir,xv Owl,
takes up on very outward sleeve its prickly
race,
The quiv ring target, at its own sweet will,
or ev'ry DAVIS, or human vulturcs bill.
I've had my cruel thrill, when soaring high,
" agony, at musket charge of falling pi;
Where inky devil shows his needless hOOf;
| know the ways of hayward, oily press
That bOthers, just to smear your tidy vest;
All, well know the breach of family peace
That comes from bringing letters into grease!
All vain to plead of classic Cadmus' feat
To her in whom your wife and laundress meet,
know the sweet yet Understanding ways
OF the pulled patron who never, never pays!
I've heard-from you--of politicians wiles,
Who come so rich in prediction smiles;
Who'll make your craft SO grandly, smoothly
If in their trade you'll kindly run the boat!
Well they deserve, the whole suspicious herd,
know, ah, yes,I count their names by scores,
The fearful nerve and Understanding bOres,
Whose powers combined, q single summer day,
Might make the rich artesian fountains play
On ev'ry hill, whose rising, rounded form
Hath e'er been swept by breath of earthly
morn!
And knowing thus, SO well, the rugged road
Der which we tramp, Mt point of public gOad,
My busy fancy Outlines wOnd'ring feeds
Start not! These lines shall not recount to you
The endless host that crowd to grand review,
Nor pause to sing Of starving need of corn,
In view of brother Burdick's ample form;
Nor speak of ragged printers bare-kneed woes,
In range of brother TOman's Sunday clothes;
Nor yet of leather famine. all must fear,
Wherever Tom Medarys shoes appear!
We pass the thousand minor names of want
That all our homes and sanctums family haunt
70 name Just one great, browning, moral need,
Too loosely held in printers daily creed.
All know his need of bus ness tact, whose drift
Leads, thrO' patient toll, to honest thrift,
And feel his need of Hope that makes men see
In garner'd glories of the years to be,
The fruit of seed in dust and darkness SOWn-
The sole reward of thousand duties done
But highest need of every hurrying hour.
To him who guides the worlds most wond'rous
Is th RH.r'
THAT EVERY WORD THAT DROPS FROM PEN
SHALL BE INSPIRED by LOVE OF FELLOwMEN
And this the purpose of my broken song
That bears no other wealth or worth along
TO underscore this single, homely line.
Through which our all of power and duty shine
He loped mankind held patient faith in God >
So let her say, above your rounded sod,
Then turn to volumes that your hand hail
wrought,
| Trace the clear imprint of your daily thought
And find on every loaf and page and line, wei
stored,
| The shining witness of her fearful word
| Ye need not dream of higher, grander praise,
| Nor heed where other heroes names are blazed