All-conquering dragons! creep over the streets 
Which the city hath reared in the pride of her power;
Beslime them with ruin, befoul them with heats, 
Let them lie in the dust as the things of an hour.
All-conquering dragons! creep over the youths 
As they wrestle with Fate, and are vanquished and thrown;
With hissing facts and of palpable truths
Let the burden of life to their souls be made known.
All-conquering dragons! creep over the old; 
Let them loosen their grasp that hath strengthened their days;
Their wisdom die out, as a dream that is told, 
And the works of their lives turn to frivolous plays.
All-conquering dragon! creep over the dead; 
Let their honours fall from them, their memory die, 
Unsceptered the hand, uncrowned be the head, 
In the waters of Lethe unwept let them lie.
Is it nothing to you, all ye men that pass by?