Man's sad necessity, destructive War,
Sweeps to the grave the surplus of his sons,
Where'er the kindly clime and soil invite
To Love; and multiply the Human Race.
Around the World, in every happier spot
Where Earth spontaneous gives nutritious fruits.
Her softest verdure courting human feet,
And mossy grot's, beneath protecting shades,
The Stranger's envy, the Possessor's pride;
There, as increasing numbers throng each bower.