"O mortals, from your fellows' blood abstain, Nor taint your bodies with a food profane: While corn, and pulse by Nature are bestow'd, And planted orchards bend their willing load; While labour'd gardens wholesom herbs produce, And teeming vines afford their gen'rous juice; Nor tardier fruits of cruder kind are lost, But tam'd with fire, or mellow'd by the frost; While kine to pails distended udders bring, And bees their hony redolent of Spring; While Earth not only can your needs supply, But, lavish of her store, provides for luxury; A guiltless feast administers with ease, And without blood is prodigal to please."