Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1883-02-24
NO. 2,462.
Poetry Of Journalism.
J. T. Child, in Kansas City Herald.

Upon the loftiest mountain, trod
alone by the sandalled foot OF Deity,
grow the daintiast flowers; on the
empurpled field of battle blooms In
beauty the timid forget-Ine-not, and
from the dusky den of the printing
press have emerged thoughts, lumi-
nous as a sunbeam, that will sparkle
and scintillate in the realm of let
ters while the flowers hold their
fragrance aud the gentle dew cools
the brow of the earnest deliver in
the musty tones of the worlds ma
jestic thinkers. w." m
The mission of the press is poesy.
Grand garner of intellect, 1t perpet-
uates the Jewels of thought that
clasp of cycles holds them for mans
Angelo saw the angel i'm an un-
heWn block OF marble, Guido
dreamed of Immortality when he
painted his bright Aurora, and the
passion-tossed genius, gifted with
the Divine affiatus. in the press sees
lightning winged Pegasus that
shall bear him on to high Olympus.
There Is poesy in the rustic of the
printed page how ii runs the gam
ut of every day life in its compact
columns, and no bugle blast or sub
tie strain of music's softest melody
can more quickly stir the heart
than the details Of some knightIy
deed even if told in stately prose. BOD.
Poesy grand gift divine-is not
merely words linked with rhyme,
nor the bright imagery OF painter
who can with artistic pencil linn
with glowing words picture that
will haunt the memory like some
vanished CLEAN of silver that kissed
the mountains brow "eold as the
cold moon that shines upon the
colder grave" but n thought that
strikes the great heart of humanity
as beat of drum in the busy mart,
that makes man pause and think
and feel that he II mortal. This is
the mission of the press. a Hu.
In every heart there is a depth
that plummet never sounded, in
every life there is a shadow that
should have silver lining and in
every paper that foods the land,
humble though il may be, are
thoughts that will live and carry to
some of earth's denizens inspira-
ton, strength to grid themselves for
the race of life even though they do
not reach the goal winner. -.,r.
How few realize the influence of
the "poet's corner" in their village
paper. In such a nook Gray's
deathless elegy first greeted the
public eye, and that sweetest strain
ever sung by bard, Annabel Lee,
flashed into being In a secluded
corner of a Detroit paper, while
Lenore, Poe's inimitable tracery on
the mystic margent of his imagina-
tion, was first put in type for that
weird child of sorrow by him who
now pens this tribute to Americas
immortal son of song. HF HL UHH Ht
The press is the nursery of poesy,
poems ''round and perfect as a
STAR" pulsating with passion, burst
forth like ripping rivulets, spark
ling with the ct,rruscatlOns of geni-
us, fresh and pure MS the dew-gem-
med flowers Of morn, and greet us
daily in the journals that each
morning fiutter through our case
ment. kiurf ..l IHE s|.H N.
Prentice, by the deft stroke of his
magic pen, made his mothers
grave Mecca in the land of poesy.
Gen. Lytle's fame is not that he
died with victory sounding in his
ears, but because he penned u
Z u. Lam dying, Egypt, dying .rf i.
And O'Hara will live I'm his death
less lines long after Kentucky's
lofty monument to her heroic sons,
that he immortaiized, has crumbled
into dust. | yf.n'> .#.',.
From the sunny slopes of that
land of romance, California, the
poetry of journalism has been en-
riched by the genius of Bret Harte
and that grand singer of the Sierras,
Joaquin Miller, whose gems of
thought, engraved on the worlds
pulsating heart will be read and
treasured by mankind so long as
the blue pillows OF the placid ocean
break upon the spotless strand.
From out the printing Office speed
winged words that make the circuit
of the globe, poems in every SEN
tence, genius cleaning in every
line, with Immortality woven in
the song as it goes sounding down
the ages.