Lung, thou Herb of the Abyssal soul Thou pandar to the foul harlot, life The rankest lies wherewith thy being is rife Too fulsomely illume thy flames' torch Whereon is write the secret of our dole Of mortal woes immortalized by thee, and wisdom, through thine olden perfidy, Drawn back to life from some Lethean shoal Hallucinations compounded of the world's old dust With fire that feeds the seventh hell forever!