We owe it to thy conjuring tricks in the
manner of Robert Houdin that, o & rising each morn-
ing, we never know what thou wilt have done with
us by evening. Through thee we are acquainted with
war and its delights — ravished wife, ravaged fields,
my skin punctured (ow! owl), but then I puncture
other people’s — the exquisite joys of envy (how sweet
it is to get the jaundice through coveting one’s neigh-
bor’s goods l We shall take him and destroy him ;

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taking is very good; destroying ir better; de-
stroying is a feast for the gods.) „ . . With thy won-
drous fingers thou km/ west how to tangle the thread
as thou windest it, to make knots hi the kkeiti.