Ah fatal Embaffy-thy hazard's dire
His kindling Soul with every ardor fire;
Great Clinton gives it to the courage prov'd
And the known wifdom of the Friend he lov'd.

As fair Euryalus to meet his Fate,
With Nyfus rushes from the Dardan gate,
Relentlefs Fate! whofe fury fcorns to fpare
The fnowy breaft, red lip, and fhining hair,
So polifh'd Andre launches on the waves,
Where Hudfon's tide its dreary confine laves.
With firm intrepid foot the Youth explores
Each dangerous pathway of the hoftile fhores;
But on no Veteran Chief his step attends,
As filent round the gloomy Wood he wends
Alone he meets the brave repentant Foe,
Suftains his late refolve, receives his vow,
With ardent skill directs the doubtful course,
Seals the firm boud and ratifies its force.

;

'Tis thus AMERICA, thy Generals fly, And wave new banners in their native sky! Sick of the mifchiefs artful Gallia pours, In friendly femblance on thy ravag'd fhores Unnatural compact !-shall a Race of Slaves Suftain the ponderous ftandard Freedom waves? No! while their feign'd Protection fpreads the toils, The Vultures hover o'er the deftin'd spoils! How fade, Provincial glories, while You run To court far deeper bondage than you shun ! Is this the generous active rifing Flame, That boasted liberty's immortal name!

*

Hudfon's tide-Major Andre came up the Hudfon River to meet General Arnold. On his return by

Land he fell into the hands of the Enemy.

Blaz'd for its rights infring'd, its trophies torn,
And taught the Wife the dire miftake to mourn,
When haughty Britain, in a luckless hour,

With rage
inebriate, and the luft of pow'r,
To fruitless conquest, and to countless graves
Led her gay Legions o'er the western waves!
The Fiend of Difcord, cow'ring at the prow,
Sat darkly fmiling at th' impending woe!

Long did my foul the wretched ftrife survey,
And wept the horrors of the deathful day;
Thro' rolling Years faw undecifive War
Drag bleeding Wifdom at his iron, Car;
Exhauft my Country's treafure, pour her gore
In fruitless conflict on the diftant shore ;
Saw the firm Congrefs all her might oppofe,
And while I mourn'd her fate, rever'd her Foes

But when, repentant of her prouder aim, She gently waves the long difputed claim; Extends the charter with your rights refor'd,.. And hides in olive wreaths the blood-ftain a fword. Then to reject her peaceful wreaths, and throw Your Country's freedom to our mutual Foe! Infatuate Land!-from that detefted day Diftracted Councils, and the thirft of Sway, Rapacious Avarice, Superftition vile, And all the Frenchman dictates in his guile Difgrace your Congrefs!Juftice drops her fcale! And radiant Liberty averts her fail! They fly indignant the polluted plain,

Where Truth is fcorn'd and Mercy pleads in vain.

That he does-plead in vain, thy witnefs bear, Accurfed Hour!-Oh! darkeft of the Year! That with Misfortune's deadlieft venom fraught To Tappan's Wall the gallant Andre brought, Snar'd in her fatal. Maze, and borne away Of fell Revenge, in all its guilt the Prey !

Oh Washington! I thought thee great and gout, Nor knew thy Nero-thirst of guiltless blood! Severe to ufe the power that Fortune gave, Thou cool determin'd Murderer of the Brave! Loft to each fairer Virtue, that infpires The genuine fervor of the Patriot fires! And You, the base Abettors of the doom, That funk his blooming honours in the tomb, Th' opprobrious tomb your harden'd hearts decreed, While all he afk'd was as the Brave to bleed! Nor other boon the glorious Youth implor'd Save the cold Mercy of the Warrior-Sword! O dark, and pitilefs! your impious hate O'er-whelm'd the Hero in the Ruffian's fate! Stopt with the* Felon-cord the rofy breath! And venom'd with difgrace the darts of Death!

Remorfelefs Washington! the day fhall come
Of deep repentance for this barb'rous doom!
When injur'd Andre's memory fhall infpire
A kindling Army with refiftless fire ;

Each falchion fharpen that the Britons wield,
And lead their fiercest Lion to the field!
Then, when each hope of thire fhall fet in night,
When dubious dread and unavailing flight
Impel your Hoft, thy guilt-upbraided Soul
Shall with untouch'd the farred Life you tole!
And when thy Heart appall'd and vanquifh'd Pride
Shall vainly afk the mercy they deny'd,

*

Felon-cord." As I fuffer in the defence of my "Country, I mult confider this hour as the most glo"rious of my life. Remember that I die as becomes a British Officer, while the manner of my death muft "reflect difgrace on your Commander.”

See Major Andre's lat words, inferted in the General Evening Post, for Tuesday November 14, 1780.

With horror fhalt thou meet the fate they gave
Nor Pity gild the darkness of thy grave!
For Infamy with livid hand shall hed
Eternal mildew on the ruthless head!

Lefs cruel far than thou, on Iliion's plain
Achilles, raging for Patroclus flain !
When hapless Priam bends the aged knea
To deprecate the Victors dire decree,
The Nobler Greek, in melting pity spares
The lifelefs Hector to his Father's Pray'rs,
Fierce as he was ;-'tis Cowards only know
Perfifting vengeance o'er a fallen Foe.

But no intreaty wakes the foft remorse
Oh murder'd Andre! for thy facred Corfe ;
Vain were an Army's, vain its Leaders fighs!.
Damp in the Earth on Hudfon's fhore it lies!
Unshrouded welters in the wint❜ry Storm,
And glute the riot of the

Tappan-Worm!
But Oh! its duft, like Abel's blood, fhall rife
And call for justice from the angry skies!

What tho the Tyrants, with malignant pride, To thy pale corfe each decent rite deny'd! Thy graceful limbs in no kind covert laid, Nor with the Chriftian-Requiem footh'd thy fhade! Yet on the grafs-green Bier foft April-Show'rs Shall earliest wake the fweet fpontaneous Flow'rs! Bid the blue Hare-bell, and the Snow-Drop there Hang their cold cup, and drop the pearly tear! And oft, at penfive Eve's ambiguous gloom, Imperial Honour, bending o'er thy tomb,

* Tappan. The place where Major Andre was executed.

With folemn ftrains fhall lull thy deep repose,
And with his deathlefs Laurels fhade thy brows!

Lamented Youth! while with inverted spear
The British Legions pour th' indignant tear!
Round the dropt arm the * funeral-fcarf entwine,
And in their hearts deep core thy worth enfhrine;
While my weak Muse, in fond attempt and vain,
But feebly pours a perishable strain,

Oh! ye diftinguifh'd Few! whofe glowing lays
Bright Phoebus kindles with his pureft rays,
Snatch from its radiant fource the living fire,
And light with † Veftal flame your ANDRE'S
HALLOW'D PYRE!

*Funeral-fcarf.-Our whole Army in America went into mourning for Major Andre, a distinguish'd tribute to his merit.

+ Veftal flame.-The Veftal fire was kept perpetually burning, and originally kindled from the rays of the Sun.

B b