In golden pre-Vesalian clays The barbers cut for stone, And to the wondering yokels' gaze A pebble (palmed) was shown. Then simples, leaves, and herbs were brewed And incantutions spelled, And by the force of magic rude Black devils were expelled. The ages with their noiseless tread Moved silently along, And some were purged and some were bled Both copiously and long. Then to the much enduring world Came an enlightened day-The bloody Moloch's flag was furled- The cultists held their sway.