And choking where they fold!
What stores have rotted, what ships decayed,
To pleasure his dainty whim!
How he fettereth hand, and blindeth head,
So terrible and so trim!
For knaves and fools a sheltering screen,
Oh a glorious growth is Official Routine.
He worketh his way, with men and things,
Alike by land and sea;
And the weaker his root, the tighter he clings