I found this in the archives at HappyCow.com a Vegetarian themed poem written by the pseudonymous author, ‘Jerry’ & published in the West Australian Times on 26 October 1874.
The Banquet of Blood: a vegetarian lay
A cockroach crawled o’er a baker’s shelf,
Waving his horns, and looking for pelf:
The baker upon his bread board below,
Was kneading and rolling about the dough.
The board received such terrible thumps,
As the baker’s rolling pin struck the lumps,
The shelf was shaken, the cockroach fell -
Ah where? The baker he could not tell!
Into the oven, deep in the dough,
Stern fate would have the cockroach go,
Dead and buried, his fate unknown
Perished the cockroach all alone.
A napkin lay where a feast was spread,
In its midst a bit of dainty bread.
A lovely lady, with hands most fair,
Unravell’d the napkin lying there.
Soups, fish, and birds, of many a kind,
A pig with skewers, its joints to bind:
A rabbit with parsley stuck on its nose,
And snipes and wallabies all laid in rows.
Huge limbs of pork, beef, mutton, and veal,
Were sliced by the flourish of sharp edged steel:
The well-charged plates were borne round
By valets in coats with gilt lace bound
Many a beggar might live on the steams,
That danced in the hall on the waxlight beams,
But he must have a most delicate smell,
Who by its strange odour the dish could tell.
A terrible shriek stirs the steam and air,
That circle around the lady fair:
The guests all about the table rise,
Gaze towards her with dread surprise.
‘Pray sit, my lords,’ at length quoth she,
‘And kindly I pray, don’t question me’
And glad were they, when the fright was o’er,
To turn to the sumptuous feast once more.
In vain did the lady try to eat
Delicate morsels of richest meat;
A dreadful sight met her constant view -
She had bitten the cockroach through!
Then to her, in the steam, from a bright tureen,
Was the ghost of the luckless cockroach seen;
While confusion in her ears did ring’
The sprite of the cockroach did seem to sing:
‘Lady! Why gave you that terrible shriek!
Why rolled your eyes, and paled your cheek?
Why dread to bite a poor worm like me,
But eat sheep and swine most greedily?’
‘Oh, delicate lady, oh! sensitive fair,
See the table strewn with carcasses there,
Mangled and torn, all flesh from bone;
Oh, leave such horrible feasts alone!
‘The waving corn, and the fruitful tree,
Bear gracious nourishment for thee;
Live, fair one, as a lady should,
And being beautiful, be good!
‘Though lions, tigers, vultures prey.
Be thou more merciful than they;
Thy health will last, thy life be long!’
And thus the cockroach ceased his song.