Let one wide ruin glut thy ravish'd sight!
Ere fades the grateful scene, indulge thine eyes,
See age and sickness tremulously slow
Creep from the flames. See babes in torture die,
And mothers swoon in agonies of woe.
Go, gaze enraptured with the mother's tear,
The infant's terror, and the captive's pain;
Where no hold bands can cheek thy cursed career,
Mix fire with blood on each unguarded plain!
These be thy triumphs, this thy boasted fame!