With horror halt thou mect the fate they gave
Nor Pity gild the darknefs of thy grave!
For Infamy with livid hand fhall hed
Eternal mildew on the ruthlefs head!
Lefs cruel far than thou, on Illion's plain
Achilles, raging for Patroclus flain!
When hapless Priam bends the aged knee
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
Perfisting vengeance o'er a jallen Foe.
But no intreaty wakes the foft remorfe
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!
Uushrouded welters in the wint'ry Storm,
And gluts the riot of the Tappan-Worm!
But Öh ! its dust, like Abel'ʼn blood, shall 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 thy 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
With folemn ftrains fhall lull thy deep repose,
And with his deathlefs Laurels fhade thy brows!
Lamented Youth! while with inverted fpear
The British Legions pour th' indignant tear!
Round the dropt arm the * funeral-fcarf entwine,
And in their hearts deep core thy worth enshrine;
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 Vetal flame your ANDRE'S
HALLOW'D PYRE!
Funeral-fcarf.-Our whole Army in America went into mourning for Major Andre, a diftinguish'd
+ Veftal flame.-The Veftal fire was kept perpetually burning, and originally kindled from the rays of the Sun.
JOHN HOWARD, Esq. F. R.S.
"The State of English and Foreign Prifons."
FAYRITE of Heaven, and friend of Earth!
Philanthropy, benignant Power!
Whofe fons difplay no doubtful worth,
The pageant of the paffing hour!
Teach me to paint, in deathlefs fong,
Some darling from thy filial throng,
Whofe deeds no party-rage infpire,
But fill th' agreeing world with one defire,
To echo his renown, refponfive to my lyre!
Ah! whither leadft thou whence that figh?
What found of woe my bofom jars?
Why pafs, where Mifery's hollow eye
Glares wildly thro' thofe gloomy bars?
Is Virtue funk in thefe abodes,
Where keen Remorfe the heart corrodes;
Where Guilt's bafe blood with frenzy boils,
And Blafphemy the mournful feene embroils?
From this infernal gloom my fhudd'ring foul recoils.
But whence thofe fudden facred beams?
Oppreffion drops his iron rod!
And all the bright'ning dungeon feems
To fpeak the prefence of a God.
Philanthropy's defcending ray
Diffufes unexpected day!
Loveliet of angels !-at her fide
Her favourite votary ftands ;--her English pride, Thro' Horror's manfions led by this celeftial guide.
Hail generous HOWARD! tho' thou bear
A name which Glory's hand fublime
Has blazon'd oft, with guardian care,
In characters that fear not Time;
For thee fhe fondly fpreads her wings;
For thee from Paradife he brings,
More verdant than her laurel bough,
Such wreaths of facred Palm, as ne'er till now
The fmiling Seraph twin'd around a mortal brow.
That Hero's praife fhall ever bloom,
Who fhielded our infulted coaft;
And launch'd his light'ning to confume
The proud Invader's routed hoft.
Brave perils rais'd his noble name :
But thou deriv'ft thy matchlefs fame
From fcenes where deadlier danger dwells;
Where fierce Contagion, with affright, repels
Valor's advent'rous ftep from her malignant cells.
*CHARLES HOWARD, Earl of Nottingham.
|