How are the mighty fallen!
Not by threats and shouts,
But a thousand whispers charm the soul
Wrapping their spell about-
Oaks whittled by a tiny blade
Splinter by splinter to the core-
Guessing nothing of the plot
They are mighty no more.
How are the wise turned blind?
Their eyes are not gouged away
But Satan comes and drip by drip
The petrifying poison plays
Bathing with a gentle cruelty,
Each drop leaving its trace
Until the mind turned in upon itself
Is finally encased.
Not by might nor power
But by stealth
Are the wise and mighty felled
Wilf 04/1998
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