O War, What art thou? <br />After the brightest conquest, what remains <br />Of all thy glories? For the vanquish'd - chains - <br />For the proud victor - what? Alas! to reign <br />O'er desolated nations - a drear waste, <br />By one man's crime, by one man's lust of power, <br />Unpeopled! Naked plains and ravaged fields, <br />Succeed to smiling harvests and the fruits <br />Of peaceful olive - luscious fig and vine! <br />Here, rifled temples are the cavern'd dens <br />Of savage beasts, or haunt of birds obscene; <br />There, populous cities blacken in the sun, <br />And in the general wreck proud palaces <br />Lie undistinguish'd, save by the dun smoke <br />Of recent conflagration! When the song <br />Of dear-bought joy, with many a triumph swell'd, <br />Salutes the victory's ear, and soothes his pride, <br />How is the grateful harmony profaned <br />With the sad dissonance of virgins' cries, <br />Who mourn their brothers slain! Of matrons hoar, <br />Who clasp their wither'd hands, and fondly ask <br />With iteration shrill - their slaughter'd sons! <br />How is the laurel's verdure stain'd with blood <br />And soil'd with widows' tears!<br /><br />Hannah More<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/war-252/
