Of human lusts and lassitudes they spring,

And are as lasting as the parent thing.

Yet numbering locust hosts, bent they to drill,

They might o'ermatch and have mankind at will.

Behold such army gathering; ours the spur,

No scattered foe to face, but Lucifer.

Not fool or knave is now the enemy

O'ershadowing men, 'tis Folly, Knavery!