THE PHAGOCYTE.
(The Story of a Blood Feud.)
[A microscopist has found an organism called the Phagocyte in the blood, which pursues and devours the Bacilli.]
Strange the tale that Science tells.
Here are some devouring cells:
Ever watchful night and day,
They the vile Bacillus slay;
Wot we well he fears the bite
Of the guardian Phagocyte.
Hour by hour the fight goes on,
Till the silent battle's won;
Vainly do Bacilli shirk
When their deadly foe's at work;
Every microbe faints with fright
At the fearsome Phagocyte.
Should the Phagocyte not keep
Faithful ward, but go to sleep;
Then Bacillus, in high glee,
Works his will on you and me;
Danger would be ours to-night,
But for that same Phagocyte.
Such a tale of Science seems
Like the offspring of wild dreams;
Fiction surely, in good sooth,
Can invent no tale like truth.
Stranger story none could write
Than this of the Phagocyte.
The Astronomer descries
Worlds on worlds beyond our eyes;
'Neath the microscope weird things
Erst unseen whirl round in rings;
Hence it is that we indite
Stanzas to the Phagocyte.
