The craving void, remote, and far too high.
Will God select amongst the brutal race,
One, and refine it for his fond embrace?
Nay, that would be too mean for his respect,
Beneath his nature, void of intellect.
The wise Creator, to complete his plan,
Resolves to make a help-meet from the Man,
Procure the stamina from him alone,
Thus constitute her “bone of his own bone.”
From Man! but where? what part can he forego,