Timothy Dwight, The Conquest of Canaan — Book I
“ Here, warriors, here the dreaded miseries flow,Scenes of dire scorn, and seats of thickening woe. [ 360] For bless'd as hope can paint, o'er all our toilLet conquest flourish, and let glory smile;Still in long train, what ceaseless ills await!The waste of war, and frowns of adverse fate! [ 364] While sheath'd in arms, the conquer'd realms we guard,End of long pains, and patience' wish'd reward,Those realms what culturing hand shall teach to bloom?Or bid bright vesture purple o'er the loom?Unfed, uncloath'd, our tribes shall waste away,Our lands grow wild, and every art decay. ”
