That thou shouldst have the lust to kill and rend;
The bestial passion to enjoy the groans
Of suffering victims, while you crunch their bones
Or gouge their eyes, that mutely plead in vain
For quick oblivion and ease from pain?
Of ponderous cast and savage mien, what teat,
With Hatred filled and Passion's fiery heat,
Reared thee more wolf than man? ill-bred,—a curse
To thine own kind, and to the Universe!