Stand at safe distance, send their mandate forth
Unto the mortal ministers that wait
To do their bidding.—Ah! who then regards
The widow’s tears, the friendless orphan’s cry,
And Famine, and the ghastly train of woes
That follow at the dogged heels of War?
They, in the pomp and pride of victory
Rejoicing, o’er the desolated earth,
As at an altar wet with human blood,
And flaming with the fire of cities burnt,