Out of the tomb, we bring Badroulbadour,
Within our bellies, we her chariot.
Here is an eye. And here are, one by one,
The lashes of that eye and its white lid.
Here is the cheek on which that lid declined,
And, finger after finger, here, the hand,
The genius of that cheek. Here are the lips,
The bundle of the body and the feet.
Out of the tomb we bring Badroulbadour.
The worms' procession is described in great detail, worm by worm, body part by body part, to better convey the gruesomeness of the image. 
 At the same time, however, the slowness forces us to contemplate the scene on a more “literary” level: the tragedy of such beauty in life eroding by such terrific means in death. 
 That so much time is spent describing their proceedings better conveys the horror, as well as the indignity, of death, as contrasted with Badroulbadour’s exalted position in life. 

The Worms at Heavens Gate