Beleeve me Ben. It is a Dangerous Trade—

The Sword has Many Marr’d as well as Made.

By it doe many fall, Not Many Rise;

Makes Many poor, few Rich and fewer Wise;

Fills Towns with Ruin, fields with blood beside;

Tis Sloth’s Maintainer, And the Shield of pride;

Fair Citties Rich to Day, in plenty flow,

War fills with want, Tomorrow, and with woe.

Ruin’d Estates, The Nurse of Vice, broke limbs and scarts

Are the Effects of Desolating Warrs.