I stand and watch my beakers boil and fume And see the gases from their wide mouths spewed To float in sullenness about the room- No witch of Hecate has ever brewed Such seething broth as mine to catalyze A festered brain into its solitude...
Sketch: Vol. 10
, Article 8.
Available at: http://lib.dr.iastate.edu/sketch/vol10/iss3/8