Aargh, can't get the formatting right, but there is more to this tale than artnouveauho let on

The wyrm awakens in worry writhing,
Gold gleaming from ground grasped,
Precious pieces by peasant picked.
Anger arises and flame-breath after.
Revenge-revived, the dragon rises
Wings whip the wind: wide bringers of woe!
The firedrake flies fierce in finding,
Masked in moon-dark, of mortals mindful
Their love of light to bright London . . .