THIS is the place where Andre met that death Whose infamy was keenest of its throes, And in this place of bravely yielded breath His ashes found a fifty years' repose; And then, at last, a transatlantic grave, With those who have been kings in blood or fame, As Honor here some compensation gave For that once forfeit to a hero's name. But whether in the Abbey's glory laid, Or on so fair but fatal Tappan's shore, Still at his grave have noble hearts betrayed The loving pity and regret they bore. In view of all he lost, -- his youth, his love, And possibilities that wait the brave, Inward and outward bound, dim visions move Like passing sails upon the Hudson's wave. The country's Father! how do we revere His justice, -- Brutus-like in its decree, -- With Andre-sparing mercy, still more dear Had been his name, -- if that, indeed, could be! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE LATE S.T. COLERIDGE by WASHINGTON ALLSTON QUATORZAINS: 4. TO SOUND by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES PSALM 48 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE PASTELLE IN BLUE by IDA MAY BORNCAMP TO A WREATH OF SNOW by EMILY JANE BRONTE |