The People in Europe are much to be praised, That in fighting they choose to be passing their days; If their wars were abolished, there's room to suppose Our Printers would growl, for the want of New-News.
May our tidings of warfare be ever from thence, Nor that page be supplied at Columbia's expence! No kings shall rise here, at the nod of a court, Ambition, or Pride, with men's lives for to sport.
In such a display of the taste of the times — The murder of millions — their quarrels and crimes, A horrible system of ruin we scan, A history, truly descriptive of man:
A Being, that Nature designed to be blest — With abundance around him — yet rarely at rest, A Being, that lives but a moment in years, Yet wasting his life in contention and wars;
A Being, sent hither all good to bestow, Yet filling the world with oppression and woe! But, consider, ye sages, ( and pray be resigned ) What ills would attend a reform of mankind —
Were wars at an end, and no nation made thinner, My neighbour, the gun-smith, would go without dinner; The Printers, themselves, for employment would fail, And soldiers, by thousands, be starving in jail.
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