Shall such a being perish in its youth?
Alas! it is indeed the fatal truth.
In that dull brain, beneath that hair unkempt,
Familiarity has bred contempt.
We warn him of the gesture all too late:
Oh, Heartless Jove! Oh, Adamantine Fate!
Some random touch—a hand’s imprudent slip—
The Terminals—a flash—a sound like “Zip!”
A smell of burning fills the started Air—
The Electrician is no longer there!