John Scott Of Amwell - Anti War Poem 1787

I HATE that drum's discordant sound,

Parading round, and round, and round:

To thoughtless youth it pleasure yields,

And lures from cities and from fields,

To sell their liberty for charms

Of tawdry lace, and glittering arms;

And when Ambition's voice commands,

To march, and fight, and fall, in foreign lands.

I hate that drum's discordant sound,

Parading round, and round, and round;

To me it talks of ravag'd plains,

And burning towns, and ruin'd swains,

And mangled limbs, and dying groans,

And widows' tears, and orphans' moans;

And all that Misery's hand bestows,

To fill the catalogue of human woes.