Alexander Pope (1688–1744). Complete Poetical Works. 1903.
Poems: 171827To Mr. John Moore
H
Deceiv’d by shows and forms!
Whate’er we think, whate’er we see,
All humankind are Worms.
Vile reptile, weak, and vain!
A while he crawls upon the earth,
Then shrinks to earth again.
E’er since our Grandam’s evil:
She first convers’d with her own kind,
That ancient Worm, the Devil.
The blockhead is a Slowworm;
The nymph whose tail is all on flame,
Is aptly term’d a Glowworm.
That flutter for a day;
First from a Worm they take their rise,
And in a Worm decay.
Thus worms suit all conditions;
Misers are Muckworms; Silkworms, beaux;
And Deathwatches, physicians.
By all their winding play;
Their conscience is a Worm within,
That gnaws them night and day.
And greater gain would rise,
If thou couldst make the courtier void
The Worm that never dies!
Who sett’st our entrails free,
Vain is thy Art, thy Powder vain,
Since Worms shall eat ev’n thee.
Some few short years, no more!
Ev’n Button’s Wits to Worms shall turn,
Who Maggots were before.