"And be ye fure, when distant far I tray To fhare the dangers of the arduous day, "Your tender faithful amity fhall rel “The * laft dear record of my grateful breáß. "Oh! graceful Priettefs at the fane of Truth, "Friend of my Soul! and guardian of my Youth! "Skill'd to convert the duty to the choice, 46 My gentle Mother! in whofe melting voice The virtuous precept, that perpetual flow'd, "With Matic warbled, and with Beanty glow'd, Thy tears!-ah Heav'n!-not drops of molten lead, "Pour'd on thy hapless Son's devoted head, "With keener fmart had each fenfation torn ! 44 They wake the nerve where agonies are born! "But Oh! reftrain me not! thy tender ftrife, "What wou'd it fave?-alas! thy Andre's life! Oh! what a weary pilgrimage 'twill prove "Strew'd with the thorns of disappointed Love !: "Ne'er can he break the charm, whofe fond controul, "By habit rooted, lords it o'er his foul, If here he languish in inglorious eafe, "Where Science palls, and Pleasures cease to please. 'Tis Glory only, with her potent ray, "Can chace the clouds that darken all his way. *Laft dear record." I have a Mother, and three "Sifters, to whom the value of my commiffion wou'd be an object, as the lofs of Grenada has much affected their income. It is needlefs to be more explicit on this fubject, I know your Excellency's goodness." -See Major Andre's laft letter to General Clinton, publifh'd in the Gazette. Then join thy voice and thou with Heav'n ordain "While Andre lives, he may not live in vain! He fays!and fighing feeks the bufy firand So on his prefent hour rude paffion preys! So fmooth the profpect of his future days! Unconfeious of the Storm, that grimly deeps, To wreck its fury on th' unfhelter'd Deeps! Now yielding waves divide before the prow; The white fails bend, the ftreaming pennants glow; And fwiftly waft him to the western plain, Where fierce Bellona rages o'er the flain. Firm in their ftrength oppofing Legions and, Foremoft in all the horrors of the day, Impetuous Andre leads the glorious way; * *Impetuous Andre.-It is in this paffage only that fiction has been employ'd thro' the narrative of the Till, rafhly bold, by numbers forc'd to yield, Silent, unmov'd the gallant Youth furvey'd Pants with quick throb, while yearning forrows dart "What tho' Honora's voice no more ball charm! "No more her beamy fmile my bofom warm! "Yet from thefe eyes fhall Force forever tear "The facred Image of that Form fo dear? "Shade * of my Love! tho' mute and cold thy charms, "Ne'er haft thou bleft my happy Rival's arms! "To my fad heart each Dawn has feen thee prest! "Each Night has laid thee pillow'd on my breaft! poem. Mr. Andre was a prifoner in America, foon after his arrival there, but the Author is unacquainted with the circumftances of the action in which he was taken. *Shade of my Love.-The miniature of Honora. A Letter from Major Andre to one of his Friends, written a few years ago, contain'd the following fentence. "I have been taken prifoner by the Americans and ftript of every thing except the picture of Honora, which I concealed in my mouth. Preserving that, I yet think myfelf fortunate." "Force fhall not tear thee from thy faithful shrine "Thou ne'er wert his, and fhalt be ever mine! "'Tis fix'd!-thefe lips fhall refolute inclofe "The precious Soother of my ceaseless woes. "And thould relentless Violence invade This laft retreat, by frantic Foudness made, “One way remains!-Fate whispers to my Soul Intrepid* Portia and her burning coal! 66 "So fhall the throbbing Inmate of my breaft While thefe fad thoughts in fwift fucceffion fire Now many a Moon in her pale courfe had shed, * Intrepid Portia. BRUTUS.] Impatient of my abfence, "And grieved that. young Octavius, with Mark Anthony "Had made themfelves fo trong, fhe "diftracted, grew "And, her Attendants absent, swallow'd fire. "CASSIUS.] And dy'd fo? Even fo! See Shakespear's Play of Julius Cæfar, Alt iv. Scene iv Again the Hero joins the ardent Train Unites the talents of inventive Art. Thus from his fwift and faithful pencil flow Points the dark Ambush, and the fpringing Mine ; The Chief no virtue views with cold regard, Skill'd to difcern, and generous to reward; Each tow'ring hope hix honor'd smiles impart, As near his Perfon, and more, near his heart The graceful Youth he draws, and round his brow Bids Rank and Power their mingled brilliance throw. Oh! haft thou seen a blooming Morn of May Thus lower'd the deathful cloud amid the blaze Of Andre's Destiny,-and quench'd its rays! |