All the historic Records of the World
Are little more than histories of Wars;
Shewing how many thousands War destroy'd,
The time, the place, and some few great ones' names.
The mournful remnants of demolished States,
The Greek, the Roman, and long-exil'd Jew;
Are living monuments of wasting War's
Annihilating power: and while they mourn
Their Grandeur faded, and their Power extinct,
To every State _memento mori_ sounds.
From age to age the habitable World
Has been a constant theatre of War:
In every land with Nature's gifts most blest,
Frequent and fatal Wars destructive rage.
So bland is fair Britannia's genial clime,
So liberal her all-protecting Laws,
So generous the spirit of her Sons,
So fond, so chaste, her Daughters virtuous love,
That human offspring still redundant grows,
And free-born Britons must contend for life.
O! envy not the lands where Slaves reside,
Though their proud Tyrants boast of _peaceful_ reign,
Where hard Oppression, freezing genial love,
Performs the work of War in embryo:
Let not mistaken fondness doat on Peace,
Preserv'd by arts more horrid far than War! ...
Let the dull languor of the pale Chinese
Desert their Infants, and their _Peace_ enjoy!
But, O! let Britons still in Love and War
Exert the generous ardour of the soul;