“Listen! the waves hiss, and loud the winds roar!
See! a ship drifts on a lee shore!
“Help!” No help; a whole crew on the beach dead.
Alas poor souls! I sleep on a good bed.
And lo! two hosts in line of battle drawn.
Thousands will not wake at next dawn!
To be killed, or kill—life or death for those—
I wonder which; happy I cannot lose!”
Count not men Molochs that with passive eyes,
They witness neighbours’ agonies.