Of health and life and joy—the food of man,
While yet he lived in innocence and told
A length of golden years, unfleshed in blood?
A stranger to the savage arts of life—
Death, rapine, carnage, surfeit, and disease—
The Lord, and not the Tyrant, of the world.”
And then goes on to picture the feast of blood:—
“And yet the wholesome herb neglected dies,
Though with the pure exhilarating soul
Of nutriment and health, and vital powers