A spoken word is nothing like one writ;
Ink spots are far more stayed than quick-gone speech.
The voice is like the thread, but not the knit;
Mere sounds pass like a wave upon the beach.
The pen has might as much as many men,
And true it is that also does the tongue;
Yet time’s a fearsome beast and once again
The page prevails beyond all that is sung.
When language is recorded on a leaf,
Yes, when the ink is put upon the page;
Although it can be taken by a thief,
It cannot be consumed by time and age.
So, though I’ll ne’er discourage oration,
Enduring fame is his who uses pen.