Page:A poetic survey round Birmingham - James Bisset - 1800.pdf/41

Nor Wives nor Children shall behold them more;
They've breath'd, perhaps, their last on * * * 's shore,
Or croſs th' Atlantic, willing victims led,
In field of battle, unlamented, bled.

Oh! ruthleſs War, enfuriate—madd'ning sense,
The Poor Man's scourge, Ambition's vain Pretence,
O sheath thy faulchion, let rude clamors cease,
O let us, once again, enjoy sweet Peace!
Then Trade and Commerce will again revive,
And Birmingham, once more, be seen alive.

O! could I say, with truth, each Lib'ral Art,
Alike was patroniz'd in ev'ry part;
O! could I say that such was here the case,
It would, with pleasure, this my eſsay grace;
But truth must ever guide my humble strain,
To praise, 'twould grateful be, to censure, pain;
My wish alone, is for the gen'ral weal,
And for the helpleſs poor I would appeal:

How many youths of Genius oft you'll see
Depreſs'd, neglected, chilled by poverty;
Their Parents scarcely can supply them bread,
Whilst want and famine fills the mind with dread.
Necessity's a spur to Genius, true,
But sometimes goads Invention thro' and thro;
It lacerates its side, inflicts a wound,
And Genius, oft, lies bleeding on the ground;
Nipp'd in the bud, the bloſsoms fade away,
They droop, they sink, they languish and decay.