Of old our fathers wrote in pictures.
’Twas in an age of savage men.
The years have rolled a mighty cycle,
And we’ve got round to it again.
They carved their story on the mountain
Where it for ages might be seen.
We write ours on a filmy ribbon,
And throw it on a silver screen.
If they who carved on cliff and hillside
Might but return today and see
The picture writing of the present,
Big with surprise their eyes would be.
We learned their message from the pictures,
Tho tiresome was the task and slow;
But we shall pass along a story
That all the world may read and know.