How strangely like a churchyard skull
The thing that’s there amongst the leaves!
A Hornets’ nest; but stir the branch
And they’ll be round your head and ears!
So wary ana so weaponed,
How do they not possess the wold?
Their lives a watch, their act a doom,
Of their own terrors they must die!
Livid, uneyed, articulate,
How like a skull their nest they make!