Through the long generations, hoarded gains
Of plastic fancies, and of potent brains;
Thrones, Temples, Marts, Art's alcoves, Learning's domes,
Patrician palaces, and bourgeois homes.
Down, down!—to glut its spleen, the paltry thing,
Impotent, save to lurk, and coil, and spring,
But powerful as the poison-drop, once sped,
That creeps, corrupts, and leaves its victim—dead!
As the asp's fang could turn to pulseless clay
The Pride of Egypt, so this Worm can slay