…And your port immovable where you stand, With still the inextinguishable glance and the clinch’d and lifted fist, And your foot on the neck of the menacing one, the scorner utterly crush’d beneath you, The menacing arrogant one that strode and advanced with his senseless scorn, bearing the murderous knife, The wide-swelling one, the braggart that would yesterday do so much, To-day a carrion dead and damn’d, the despised of all the earth, An offal rank, to the dunghill maggots spurn’d.
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The vultures must see carrion.
The plant attracts flies by smelling like carrion.