The Human Abstract

Pity would be no more,
If we did not make somebody poor:
And Mercy no more could be,
If all were as happy as we;
And mutual fear brings peace,
‘Till we get you get the things to cease.

If all were happy, not intended,
The world would then be quickly ended;
With brothers’ love would cease to be;
For none would then have saved their tree.

So let us brood on this:
That misery is not a curse,
While we make the enemy treat,
That strong and growing human heat.

• William Blake