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With fickly yew unfragrant cypress twine,
And hang the dusky wreath round Honour's shrine.
Bids steel-clad Valour chace that dove-like Bride,
Enfeebling Mercy, from his awful fide ;
Where long she sat and check'd the ardent rein,
As whirl's his chariot o'er th'embattled plain ;
Gilded with sunny smile her April tear,
Rais'd her white arm, and stay'd th' uplifted spear ;
Then, in her place, bids Vengeance mount the car,
And glut with gore th' insatiate Dogs of War!.
With one pale hand the * bloody scroll he rears,
And bids his Nations blot it with their tears;
And one, extended o'er th’ Atlantic wave,
Points to his Andre's ignominious grave!
And shall the Muse, that marks the solemn scene,
" As busy Fancy lifts the veil between,"
Refuse to mingle in the awful train,
Nor breathe, with glowing zeal the votive strain !
From public fame shall admiration fire
The boldest numbers of her raptur'd lyre.
To hymn a Stranger and with ardent lay
Lead the wild mourner round her Cook's morai ;
While Andre fades upon his dreary bier
And + Julia's only tribute is her tear?
Dear, lovely Youth! whose gentle virtues stole
Thro' Friendship's softning medium on her soul !
Ah no !-with every strong refiftless plea,
Rise the recorded days the past with thee,
While each dim shadow of o'er-whelming Years,
With glance reverted Eagle-memory clears.
* Bloody scroll.—The Court-Martial decree, figned at Tappan, for Major Andre's execution.
+ Julia.-The name by which Mr. Andre address'd the Author in his correspondence with her.
Belou'd Companion of the faireft hours
That rofe for her in Joy's resplendent bow'rs,
How gaily Rone on thy bright morn of Youth
The Star of Pleasure, and the Sun of Truth !
Full from their source descended on thy mind
Each gen'rous virtue and each taste refin'd;
Young Genius led thee to his varied fane,
Bade thee * ask all his gifts, nor aik in vain ;
Hence novel thoughts, in ev'ry lustre drett
Of pointed Wit, that diamond of the breast;
Hence glow'd thy fancy with poetic ray,
Hence music warbled in thy sprightly lay ;
And hence thy pencil, with his colours warm,
Caught ev'ry grace, and copied ev'ry charm
Whose tranfient glories beam on Beauty's cheek,
And bid thy glowing Ivory breathe and speak.
Blest pencil! by kind Fate ordain’d to save
Honora's semblance from her t early grave.
Oh! while on I Julia's arm it sweetly smiles,
And each lorn thought, cach long regret beguiles,
Fondly she weeps the hand which form’d the spell,
Now shroudless mould'ring in its earthy tell !
All his gifts.-Mr. Andre had conspicuous talents for Poety, Music, and Painting. The News-papers mention'd a satiric
of his upon the Americans, which was suppos'd to have stimulated their barbarity towards him.
† Early grave.-Miss Honora Sm to whom Mr, Andre's attachment was of such fingular conítancy, died in a consumption a few months before he suffer'd death at Tappan. She had married another Gentleman four years after her engagement with Mr. Andre had been diffolu'd by parental Authority.
# Julia's arm.--Mr. Andre drew two miniature pictures of Miss Honora S--- on his first acquaintance with her at Buxton, in the Year 1769, one for himself, the other for the Author of this poem.
But sure the Youth, whose ill-ftarr'd paflion trove With all the pangs of inauspicious Love, Full oft' deplor'd the fatal art that stole The jocund freedom of its Master's soul !
While with nice hand he mark'd the living grace
And matchless sweetness of Honora's face,
Th' enamour'd Youth the faithful traces blest;
That barb'd the dart of Beauty in his breast;
Around his neck th'enchanting Portrait hung,
While a warm vow burst ardent from his tongue,
That from his bofom no fucceeding day,
No chance should bear that talisman away.
'Twas thus * Apelles bask'd in Beauty's blaze, And felt the mischief of the iteadfast gaze; Trac'd with disorder'd hand Campafpe's charms, And as their beams the kindling Canvas warms, Triumphant Love, with still superior art, Engraves their wonders on the Painter's heart.
Dear loit Companion ! ever conftant Youth!
That Fate had smild on thy unequal'd truth!
Nor bound th' ensanguin'd laurel on that brow
Where Love ordain d his brightest wreathe to glow!
Then Peace had led thee to her softest bow'rs,
And Hymen strew'd thy path with all his flow'rs;
Drawn to the roof, by Friendship’s filver cord,
Each social Joy had brighten'd at thy board;
Science and soft affection's blended rays
Had fhone unclouded on thy lengthen's days;
From hour, to hour, thy talte, with conscious pride,
Had mark'd new talents in thy lovely Bride ;
'Twas thus Apelles.-Prior is very elegant upon this circumitance in an Ode to his Friend Mr. Howard the Painter.
Till thou hadtt own’d the magic of her face
Thy fair Honora's leaft engaging grace.
Dear loft Honora ! o'er thy early bier
The Mufe ftill sheds her ever sacred tear!-
The bluding rose-bud in its vernal bed,
By Zephyrs fan’d and murm’ring fountains fed,
In June's gay morn that scents the ambient air,
Was not more sweet, more innocent, or fair,
Oh! when such Pairs their kindred Spirit find,
When Sense and Virtue deck each spotless Mind,
Hard is the doom that shall the union break,
And Fate's dark pinion hovers o'er the wreck.
Now Prudence in her cold and thrifty care,
Frown'd on the Maid, and bad the Youth despair ;
For Pow'r Parental sternly faw, and strove
To tear the lilly-bands of plighted Love;
Nor strove in vain ; but while the Fair One's fighs
Disperse, like April-storms in sunny skies,
The firmer Lover, with unswerving truth,
To his first paflion consecrates his Youth ;
Tho' four long years a night of absence prove,
Yet Hope's loft Star shone trembling on his Love;
Till * busy Rumour chas'd each pleasing dream
And quench'd the radiance of the filver beam.
" Honora loft!--my happy Rival's Bride !
full fails ! and roll thou mighty tide ! " O'er the dark waves forsaken Andre bear " Amid the vollying thunders of the War ! " To win bright Glory from my country's Foes, " Ev'n in this ice of Love, my bofom glows.
Busy Rumour.-The tidings of Honora's Marriage. Upon that event Mr. Andre quitted his Profeflion as a Merchant and join'd our Army in America.
" Voluptuous LONDON! where thy turrets Llaze, " Their hundred thrones the frolic Pleasures raise
; “ Bid proud Expence Sabean odours bring, ". Nor ask her roles of the tardy Spring ; • Where Music Boats the glitt'ring roofs among, " And with meand'ring cadence swells the Song , “ Where Painting burns the Grecian. Meed to claim, “ From the high temple of immortal Fame, 6 Bears to the radiant Goal, with ardent pace, “ Her Kaufinan's beauty, and her Reynold's grace ; “ Where Sun-clad Poetry the strain inspires,
And foils the Grecian Harps, the Latian Lyres.
“ Ye fofi’ning Luxuries! ye polish'd Arts ! “ Bend your eufeebling rays ou tranquil hearts ! “ I quit the Song, the Pencil, and the Lyre, “ White robes of Peace, and Plçasureş soft attire, " To seize the Sword, to mount the rapid Cár, “ In all the proud habiliments of War.-66 Honora loit! I woo a ferner Bride, • The arm'd Bellona calls me to her side ; “ Harsh is the music of our marriage strain ! " It breathes in thunder from the western plain! " Wide o'er the watry world its echos roll, " And rouse each latent ardor of my Soul. " And tho' unlike the soft melodious lay, " That gaily wak'd Honora's nuptial day, " Its deeper tones shall whisper, e'er they cease, “ More genuine transport, and more lasting peace!
Refoly'd I gu! nor from that fatal bourn “ To these gay scenes thall Andre's steps return ! “ Set is the star of Love, that ought to guide “ His refuent Bark acrols the nighty l'ide!-“ But while iny Country's Foes, with impious hand “ Hurl o'er the subject plains the livid brand " Of dire Sedition0! let Heav'n ordain " While Andre lives, he may not live in vain !