John Mawe

“To mee, who with eternal Famine pine,Alike is Hell, or Paradise, or Heaven,There best, where most with ravin I might meet; Which here, though plenteous, all too little seemsTo stuff this Maw, this vast unhide-bound Corpse.””

“Whom thus the Sin-born Monster answerd soon.   To mee, who with eternal Famin pine,   Alike is Hell, or Paradise, or Heaven,   There best, where most with ravin I may meet;   Which here, though plenteous, all too little seems   To stuff this Maw, this vast unhide-bound Corps.     To whom th' incestuous Mother thus repli'd.   Thou therefore on these Herbs, and Fruits, & Flours   Feed first, on each Beast next, and Fish, and Fowle,   No homely morsels, and whatever thing   The Sithe of Time mowes down, devour unspar'd,   Till I in Man residing through the Race,   His thoughts, his looks, words, actions all infect,   And season him thy last and sweetest prey.””

“MAN, GIFTED ABOVE HIS KIN Terrible in its beauty You have made, my God, this clawed, mawed world where even plants reach out with hooks and gape for prey. Bright, singing wings Bear beaks that snap in air, or fold to pounce and tear the cringing flesh below. One thousand fathoms down, cold in its dark domain, life stalks itself to feed on succulence of pain. Sucking the tender teat, Toothless and untaloned, man, gifted above his kin, refines the shape of fangs and rends the web of life with many-weaponed hand””