But it seems that at length Genus Man will be winner.
You cry 'Lucky dog!' But what now about dinner?
No oysters, no turtle, fresh salmon, fried sole,
No canvas duck nor fowl casserole.
All these he has seen disappear from the stage,
A sacrifice vast growing age after age.
Their successive growth upward he's watched with dismay;
They have come to be men, having all had their day!
Though he took, while its lord, quite a taste of the creature,
By rule Epicurean 'dum vivim.,' etcetera.