OUD howls the ftorm! the vex'd Atlantic roars!
Thy Genius, Britain, wanders on its fhores!
Hears cries of horror wafted from afar,
And groans of Anguifh, mid the fhrieks of War!
Hears the deep curfes of the Great and Brave,
Sigh in the wind, and murmur on the wave!
O'er his damp brow the fable crape he binds,
And throws his victor garland to the winds;
Bids haggard Winter in the drear fojourn,
Tear the dim foliage from her drizzling urn;
Victor garland.-Alluding to the conqueft by Lord Cornwallis.
With fickly yew unfragrant cypress twine,
And hang the dusky wreath round Honour's fhrine.
Bids fteel-clad Valour chace that dove-like Bride,
Enfeebling Mercy, from his awful fide;
Where long the fat and check'd the ardent rein,
As whirl'd his chariot o'er th' embattled plain;
Gilded with funny fmile her April tear,
Rais'd her white arm, and ftay'd th' uplifted fpear;
Then, in her place, bids Vengeance mount the car,
And glut with gore th' infatiate Dogs of War!
With one pale hand the bloody fcroll 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 fhall the Mufe, that marks the folemn fcene,
"As bufy Fancy lifts the veil between,"
Refufe to mingle in the awful train,
Nor breathe, with glowing zeal the votive strain !
From public fame fhall 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! whofe gentle virtues stole
Thro' Friendship's foftning medium on her foul!
Ah no!-with every strong refiftlefs plea,
Rife the recorded days fhe paft with thee,
While each dim fhadow of o'er-whelming Years,
With glance reverted Eagle-memory clears.
*Bloody feroll.-The Court-Martial decree, figned at Tappan, for Major Andre's execution.
Julia.-The name by which Mr. Andre addrefs'd the Author in his correfpondence with her.
Belov'd Companion of the fairest hours
'That rofe for her in Joy's refplendent bow'rs,
How gaily one on thy bright morn of Youth
The Star of Pleasure, and the Sun of Truth!
Full from their fource defcended on thy mind
Each gen'rous virtue and each tafte refin'd;
Young Genius led thee to his varied fane,
Bade thee* afk all his gifts, nor ask in vain ;
Hence novel thoughts, in ev'ry luftre dreft
Of pointed Wit, that diamond of the breast ;
Hence glow'd thy fancy with poetic ray,
Hence mufic warbled in thy fprightly lay;
And hence thy pencil, with his colours warm,
Caught ev'ry grace, and copied ev'ry charm
Whofe tranfient glories beam on Beauty's cheek,
And bid thy glowing Ivory breathe and speak.
Bleft pencil! by kind Fate ordain'd to save
Honora's femblance from her † early grave.
Oh! while on ‡ Julia's arm it fweetly fmiles,
And each lorn thought, each long regret beguiles,
Fondly the weeps the hand which form'd the fpell,
Now throudlefs mould'ring in its earthy cell!
* All his gifts.-Mr. Andre had confpicuous talents for Poety, Mufic, and Painting. The News-papers mention'd a fatiric poem of his upon the Americans, which was fuppos'd to have ftimulated their barbarity towards him.
Early grave.-Mifs Honora S to whom Mr. Andre's attachment was of fuch fingular conftancy, died in a confumption a few months before he fuffer'd death at Tappan. She had married another Gentleman four years after her engagement with Mr. Andre had been diffolv'd by parental Authority.
Julia's arm.-Mr. Andre drew two miniature pictures of Mifs Honora S on his firft acquaintance with her at Buxton, in the Year 1769, one for himself, the other for the Author of this poem.
But fure the Youth, whofe ill-ftarr'd paffion ftrove With all the pangs of inaufpicious Love, Full oft' deplor'd the fatal art that stole The jocund freedom of its Mafler's fɔul!
While with nice hand he mark'd the living grace
And matchlefs fweetnefs of Honora's face,
Th' enamour'd Youth the faithful traces bleft;
That barb'd the dart of Beauty in his breaft;
Around his neck th' enchanting Portrait hung,
While a warm vow burft ardent from his tongue,
That from his bofom no fucceeding day,
No chance should bear that talifman away.
'Twas thus Apelles bafk'd in Beauty's blaze, And felt the mifchief of the fteadfast gaze; Trac'd with diforder'd hand Campafpe's charms, And as their beams the kiudling Canvas warms, Triumphant Love, with ftill fuperior art, Engraves their wonders on the Painter's heart.
Dear loft Companion! ever conftant Youth! That Fate had fmil'd on thy unequal'd truth! Nor bound th' enfanguin'd laurel on that brow Where Love ordain'd his brightest wreathe to glow! Then Peace had led thee to her fofteft bow'rs, And Hymen ftrew'd thy path with all his flow'rs; Drawn to the roof, by Friendship's filver cord, Each focial Joy had brighten'd at thy board; Science and foft affection's blended rays Had thone uncloaded on thy lengthen'd days; From hour, to hour, thy taste, with confcious pride, Had mark'd new talents in thy lovely Bride;
*Twas thus Apelles.-Prior is very clegant upon this circumftance in an Ode to his Friend Mr. Howard the Painter.
Till thou hadt 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 fheds her ever facred tear!-
The blushing rofe-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 fweet, more innocent, or fair,
Oh! when fuch Pairs their kindred Spirit find,
When Senfe and Virtue deck each spotlefs 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 fternly faw, and strove
To tear the lilly-bands of plighted Love;
Nor ftrove in vain; but while the Fair One's fighs
Difperfe, like April-ftorms in funny skies,
The firmer Lover, with unfwerving truth,
To his firft paffion confecrates his Youth;
Tho' four long years a night of abfence prove,
Yet Hope's foft Star fhone trembling on his Love;
Till bufy Rumour chas'd each pleafing dream
And quench'd the radiance of the filver beam.
"Honora loft my happy Rival's Bride! "Swell ye full fails! and roll thou mighty tide! "O'er the dark waves forfaken 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.
Bufy Rumour. The tidings of Honora's Marriage. Upon that event Mr. Andre quitted his Profeffion as a Merchant and join'd our Army in America.
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