 | Poems, by Joseph Cottle |  |
Is man on man for ever doom'd to prey?
Shall he for ever passively obey
The voice which Discord thunders from afar?
Exulting wield the infuriate scourge of war?
Shall never Reason whisper in the ear
Of him who lights the torch, or hurls the spear,
‘Know you their crimes on whom you warfare wage?
‘For whom you feel resentment's deadly rage?
‘Has never the obtruding thought arose,
“What is the cause, for which I slay my foes?
“Have they deceiv'd their friends? from justice swerv'd?
“Betray'd their country? and their fates deserv'd?
“Or have they not, mid clashing interest's cry,
“Ventur'd their lives, like me, unknowing why?”
‘If then the lenient ties of human kind
‘Thou dare despise, and be to mercy blind;
‘Pant to survey, in gore, thy brethren drest,
‘And thirst to plunge thy sabre in their breast:
‘Such bitter hopes with none but Demons dwell,
‘Their Sire is Satan, and their home is hell.’
Shall he for ever passively obey
The voice which Discord thunders from afar?
Exulting wield the infuriate scourge of war?
Shall never Reason whisper in the ear
Of him who lights the torch, or hurls the spear,
‘Know you their crimes on whom you warfare wage?
‘For whom you feel resentment's deadly rage?
‘Has never the obtruding thought arose,
“What is the cause, for which I slay my foes?
“Have they deceiv'd their friends? from justice swerv'd?
“Betray'd their country? and their fates deserv'd?
“Or have they not, mid clashing interest's cry,
“Ventur'd their lives, like me, unknowing why?”
89
‘Thou dare despise, and be to mercy blind;
‘Pant to survey, in gore, thy brethren drest,
‘And thirst to plunge thy sabre in their breast:
‘Such bitter hopes with none but Demons dwell,
‘Their Sire is Satan, and their home is hell.’
| Poems, by Joseph Cottle | |