No sense have they of ills to come,
Nor care beyond to-day:
Yet see, how all around ’em wait
The Ministers of human fate,
And black Misfortune’s baleful train!
Ah, show them where in ambush stand,
To seize their prey, the murd’rous band!
Ah, tell them they are men!
These shall the fury Passions tear,
The vultures of the mind,