I will not quit thee; Thou art a man with human sympathies; Madness will touch my brain; I cannot, will not yield. […] Thou thinkest we will rend thee bone from bone, And nerve from nerve, working like fire within! […] Dost imagine We will but laugh into thy lidless eyes? […] The history of the tripod will be found to afford much interest. […] Thy venomed goblet will we quaff, until We fill — we fill!”