Nor act of normal wont might man blaspheme
To make of Nature’s need a vile opprobrious theme.
XXVI.
Thoughts like to these are breathings of the truth
To whoso ponders deep the tale of ruth;
The futile mannish pleas that would explain
The purport of her periodic pain,
All bear unconscious witness to the wrong
In blindness born, in error fostered long,—
The spurious function growing with the years,