George Eliot,
The Legend of Jubal
(1869)
“ Such Tubal-Cain. But Jubal had a frame Fashioned to finer senses, which became A yearning for some hidden soul of things, Some outward touch complete on inner springs That vaguely moving bred a lonely pain, A want that did but stronger grow with gain Of all good else, as spirits might be sad For lack of speech to tell us they are glad. Now Jabal learned to tame the lowing kine, And from their udders drew the snow-white wine That stirs the innocent joy, and makes the stream Of elemental life with fulness teem ”
