_Then_ ply your guns with energy,
And throw your columns in
Thro' street and lane, thro' house and church,
The sword and faggot hear,
And every inmost recess search,
To fill with shrieks the air
Where waving fields and smiling homes
Now deck the sunny plain,
And laughter-loving childhood roams
Unmoved by care or pain;
Let famine gaunt and grim despair
Behind you stalk along,
And pestilence taint all the air
With victims from the strong
Let dogs from mangled beauty's cheeks
The flesh and sinews tear,
And craunch the bones around for weeks,
And gnaw the skulls till bare
Let vultures gather round the heaps
Made up of man and beast,
And, while the widowed mother weeps,
Indulge their horrid feast,
Till, startled by wild piteous groans,
On dreary wings they rise,
To come again, mid dying moans,
And tear out glazing eyes
_Tho'_ widows' tears, and orphans' cries,
When starving round the spot
Where much-loved forms once met their eyes
Which now are left to rot,