The friendly parley cannot intervene;
The unknown tongue does but create alarm: 
With jealous fears, stern looks, and brandish’d arms,
They stand aloof:  as birds of distant groves
At the strange note prepare for instant War. 
  At first they skirmishing dispute the right
Of hunting in the unappropriate waste: 
But every onset aggravates their hate;
Till each increasing force, whetting their swords,
With purpos’d malice seeking out the foe,
Alternate by reprisal and revenge,
Doubly compensate each discomfiture,
Yet seek not to attack each-other’s home,
Where Age, and Infancy, in safety dwell: 
They war but with freebooters:  private Peace
And Female Covert, Valour scorns to assail. 
But when in evil hour some female hand,
Whether by force of Love, or force of Arms,
Is led across the desart by the Foe;
The jealous fury kindles to a flame: 
No longer sacred the domestic hearth: 
Fire, Death, and Devastation, mark their way,
And all the horrid crimes of savage War. 
  Now War becomes the business of the State: 
The most humane, the most pacific men,
Must arm for War, or lose all they hold dear: 
The sorrows of the Aged, Infant cries,
And Female Tears, resistlessly prevail: 
Can gentlest natures be in love with Peace,
When Love, most tender Love, excites to War? 
No....  When some lov’d and honour’d youth distrest’d,
Raising his head amongst his arm’d compeers,
Tells that the well-known honourable Maid,
The Virgin Mistress of his dearest hopes,
Is ravish’d from him, borne by force away;
Though pierc’d with grief, yet nobly he exclaims,
’Think not I wish to embroil you in my fate: 
’For though not one of you espouse my cause,
’I singly will attempt the desperate deed. 
‘Farewell:  I go to find my Love, or die!’
  Silent and motionless the legions stand,
By looks examining each-other’s heart: 
But soon a murmur through the ranks proceeds,
Swelling as quickly a terrific roar;
Like heavy waters breaking from their mounds,
A long, and loud, and inarticulate shout,
While every weapon vibrates in the air,
And hisses it’s fierce vengeance at the foe. 
  The righteous cause admits of no delay;
No tardy foot impedes the immediate march: 
The Enemy, not taken by surprise,
Wak’d by the watchful fears of conscious guilt,
On their frontiers await the coming foe. 
  Now at the near approach of threatening Death,
Full many a thinking, sighing, aching heart,
Indulges secretly the hopeless wish
For Life, and Peace....  Alas! it cannot be: 
To advance is to encounter dreadful danger;
But to recede, inevitable death;
His own associates would deal the blow: 
  Thus led by Fate, behold upon the plain,
The adverse bands in view, and in advance. 
Now Fear, Self-pity, and affected Courage,
Speak in their hideous shouts with voice scarce human;