Oh! hast thou seen a blooming Morn of May In crystal beauty shed the modest ray, And with its balmy dews' refreshing show'r Swell the young grain, and ope the purple flow'r, In brightening lustre reach its radiant Noon, Rob'd in the gayest mantle of the Sun? Then 'mid the splendours of its azure skies, Oh! hast thou seen the cruel Storm arise, In sable horror shroud each dazzling charm, And dash their glories back with icy arm? Thus lowr'd the deathful cloud amid the blaze Of André's rising hopes,--and quench'd their rays! Ah, fatal Embassy!--thy hazards dire His kindling Soul with ev'ry ardour fire; Great Clinton gives it to the courage prov'd, And the known wisdom of the Friend he lov'd. As fair Euryalus, to meet his Fate, With Nysus rushes from the Dardan gate, Relentless Fate! whose fury scorns to spare The snowy breast, red lip, and shining hair, So polish'd André launches on the waves, Where[81]Hudson's tide its dreary confine laves. With firm intrepid foot the Youth explores Each dangerous pathway of the hostile shores; But on no Veteran-Chief his step attends, As silent round the gloomy Wood he wends; Alone he meets the brave repentant Foe, Sustains his late resolve, receives his vow, With ardent skill directs the doubtful course, Seals the firm bond, and ratifies its force. 'Tis thus, America, thy Generals fly, And wave new banners in their native sky! Sick of the mischiefs artful Gallia pours, In friendly semblance on thy ravag'd shores. Unnatural compact!--shall a Race of Slaves Sustain the ponderous standard Freedom waves? No! while their feign'd Protection spreads the toils, The Vultures hover o'er the destin'd spoils! How fade Provincial-glories, while ye run To court far deeper bondage than ye shun! Is this the generous active rising Flame, That boasted Liberty's immortal name, Blaz'd for its rights infring'd, its trophies torn, And taught the Wife the dire mistake to mourn, When haughty Britain, in a luckless hour, With rage inebriate, and the lust of pow'r, To fruitless conquest, and to countless graves, Led her gay Legions o'er the Western waves? The Friend of Discord, cow'ring at the prow, Sat darkly smiling at th' impending woe! Long did my Soul the wretched strife survey, And wept the horrors of the deathful day; Thro' rolling Years saw undecisive War Drag bleeding Wisdom at his iron Car; Exhaust my Country's treasure, pour her gore In fruitless conflict on the distant shore; Saw the firm Congress all her might oppose, And while I mourn'd her fate, rever'd her Foes.