The mind conceives a thought.  To brain it's born,
Which mother is ungenerous.  Weakened thus,
It makes its way to larynx, where it's torn
To stringy syllables -- yet speak we must.

The wolf conceives a need; it's born to blood.
On blood it's suckled, throbbing through his bowels.
Collecting strength, it rears its lusty head
And joyfully bursts loose -- the mad beast howls.