Menken, Adah Isaacs
See the poor wounded snake; how burdened to the
How it lengthens limberly along the dust.
Now palpitates into brights rings only to unwind, and
reach its bleeding head up the steep high walls around us.
Now, alas! falling heavily back into itself, quivering
with unuttered pain;
Chocking with its own blood it dies in the dust.
So we are crippled ever;
Reaching and falling,
Silent and dying.