" And be ye fure, when distant far I stray
“ To ihare the dangers of the arduous day,
“ Your tender taithful amity shall reil
" The * last dar record of my grateful breát.

"Oh! graceful Priettess at the fane of Truth, “ Friend of my Soul ! and guardian of my

Youth ! " Skill'd to convert the duty to the choice,

My gentle Mother! in whose melting voice " The virtuous précept, that perpetual How'd,

With Matic warbled, and with Beanty glow'd,

Thy tears !-ah Hear'n! -not drops of molten lead, “ Pour'd on thy hapless Son's devoted head, " With keener smart had each sensation toro !

They wake the nerve where agonies are born! " But Oh! restrain me not! thy tender itrife, " What wou'd it save ?-alag! thy Andre's life ! “Oh! what a weary pilgrimage 'twill prove : • Sirew'd with the thorns of disappointed Love!: " Ne'er can he break the charm, whose fond controul, “ By habit rooted, lords it'o'er his soul, " If here he languish in inglorious ease, " Where Science pulls, and Plcasures cease to please. .. 'Tis Glory only, with her potent ray, " Can chace the clouds that darken all his way. • Then dry those pearly drops, that wildly flow, " Nor snatch the laurel from my youthful brow ! 66 The Rebel Standard blazes to the noon ! " And Glory's path is bright before thy Son!

Last .dear record." I have a Mother, and three “ Sisters, to whom the value of my commission wou'd • be an object, as the loss of Grenada has much af. fected their income. It is needless to be more explicit on this subject, I know your Exceilency's goodness."

-See Major Andre's lait letter to General Clinton, publish'd in the Gazette.

6. Then join thy voice and thou with Heav'n ordain • While Andre lives, he may not live in vain!

He says! --and sighing fueks the busy flrand
Where anchor'd Nayies wait the with 'd command.
To the full gale the nearer billows roar,
And proudly lash the circumscribing frore;
While furious on the craggy coast they rave,
All calm and lovely rolls the difant 'wave ;
For onward, as th' unbounded waters spread,
Deep fink the rocks in their capacious bed,
And all their pointed 'terrors utmost force,
But gently interrupts the billows course.

So on his present hour rude passion preys ! So smooth the prospect of his future days! Unconscious of the Storm, that grimly Deeps, To wreck its fury on th' unshelter'd Deeps!

Now yielding waves divide before the prow; The white fails bend, the streaming pennants glow; And swiftly waft him to the western plain, Where fierce Bellona rages o'er the slain.

Firm in their strength opposing Ligions land,
Prepar'd to drench with bloud the thirsty Land. .
Now Carnage hurls her flaming bolts afar,
And Disolation groane amid the War.
As bleed the Valiant, and the Mighty yield,
Death (talks the only Victor o'er the field.

Foremost in all the horrors of the day, Impetuous* Andre leads the glorious way;

Impetuous Andre. - It is in this passage only that fiation has beca employ'd thru the narrative of the

Till, raíhlybold, by numbers forc'd to yield,
They drag him captive from the long-fought field.
Around the Hero croud th' exulting Bands,
And seize the spoils of War with bloody hands ;
Snatch the dark plumage from his awful creit,
And tear the golden 'crelene from his brealt ;
The sword, the tube, that wings the death from far,
And all the fatal implements of War!

Silent, unmov'd the gallant Youth survey'd
The lavish spoils triumphant Ruffians made.
The idle ornament, the useless spear
He little recks, but oh! there is a fear
Paats with quick throb, wliile yearning forrows dart
Thro' all his senses to his trembling heart.

What tho' Honora's voice no more sball charm! " No more her beamy smile my bosom warm ! “ Yet from these eyes shall Force forever tear “ Tlie sacred Image of that Form fo dear? “ Shade * of my love! tho'mute and cold thy charms, “ Ne'er halt thou blest my happy Rival's arms !

“ To my fad heart each Dawn has seen thee prest! “ Each Night bas laid thee pillow'd on my breaft!

poem. Mr. Andre was a prisoner in America, foon after his arrival there, but the Author is unacquainted with the circumitances 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 prisoner by the Americans aud itript of every thing except the picture of Honora, which I' concealed in my mouth. Preserving that, I yet think myself fortunate."

" Force shall not tear thee from thy faithful shrine
- Thou ne'er wert his, and shalt be ever mine!

" 'Tis six'd !--these lips Ahall resolute inclose
" The precious Soother of my ceaseless woes.
" And Thould relentless Violence invade
" This last retreat, by frantic Fondness made,
“ One way remains! --Fate whispers to my Soul

Intrepid * Portia and her burning coal !
“ So shall the throbbing Inmate of my breast
" From Love's fole gift meet everlasting rest!”

While these fad thoughts in swift succession fire
The fmother'd embers of each fond desire,
Quick to his mouth his

eager

hand removes
The beauteous semblance of the Form he loves.
That darling treasure safe, resign'd he wears
The sordid robe, the scanty viand shares;
With chearful fortitude content to wait
The barter'd ransom of a kinder fate.

Now many a Moon in her pale course had shed,
The pensive beain on Aodre's captive head.
At length the Sun rofe jocund to adorn
With all his splendor the enfranchis’d Morn.

Intrepid Portia.

** Brutus.] Impatient of my absence, “ And grieved that young O&avius, with

"Mark Anthony - Had made themselves so trong, she grew

si distracted,
66 And, her Attendants abseot, swallow'd fire.

" CASSIUS.] And dy'd fo?
“ Brutus.] Even so !

See Shakespear's Play of Julius Cæfar, Activ. Scene iv.

Again the Hero joins the ardent Train
That pours its thonfunds on the tented plain-;
And thines distinguish'd in the loag Array,
Bright as the filver itar that leads the Day!
His modei temperance his wakeful hecd,
His filent diligence, his ardent speed,
Each warrior duty to the Veteran taught,
Shaming the vain Experience Time had brought.
Dependance scarcely feels his gentle sway
He mares each want, and smiles each grief away ;
And to the virtues of a noble Heart
Unites the talents of inventive Art.
Thus from his swift and faithful pencil flow
The Lines, the Camp, the Fortress of the Foe;
Serene to counteract each deep Defigo,
Points the dark Ambush, and the springing Mine ;
Till, as a breathing Incense, Andre's name
l'ervades the Hoft, and swells the loud acclaim.

The Chief no virtue views with cold regard, Skill'd to discern, and generous to reward ; Each tow'ring hope hix honor'd smiles impart, As near his Person, and more, hear his beart The grateful Youth' he draws,--and round his brow Bids Rank and Power their miragled brilliance throw.

Oh! halt thou seen a blooming Morn of May
In crystal beauty sied the modeit ray?
And with its balmy dew's refre hing show'r.
Swell the youug grain, and ope the purple flow'r ?'
In bright'ning luftre reach its radiant Noon,
Rob'd in the gayetl mantle of the Sun ?
Then 'mid the spenders of its azure fies,
Oh! haft thou scen the cruel Storm arise ?
In fable horror shroud each dazzling charin,
And dash their glorias back with icy arm!

Thus lower'd the deathful cloud amid the blaze Of Andre's Destiny; and queuch'd its rays !