9
POETICAL ESSAY.
Destruction marks thee! o'er the blood-stain'd heathIs faintly borne the stifled wail of death;Millions to fight compell'd, to fight or dieIn mangled heaps on War's red altar lie.The sternly wise, the mildly good, have spedTo the unfruitful mansions of the dead.Whilst fell Ambition o'er the wasted plainTriumphant guides his car—the ensanguin'd reinGlory directs; fierce brooding o'er the scene,With hatred glance, with dire unbending mien,
