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Lines Written at Demarest's Field
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


72

Lines Written at Demarest's Field

In quest of honour, wealth, promotion, fame,
One fatal step his prospects blasted all;
In pride of youth he met a death of shame,
While pitying thousands mourn'd his early fall:
War's iron laws condemned him to that doom
That most experience, who such masks assume.
A Traitor's avarice led him to that fate
Which all bemoaned, when on the cruel tree,
He saw ambition's madness, saw too late
One step too far, to vanquish Liberty.
Death he despised, and boldly lead the storm,
Nor feared his exit, but abhorred the form.
Weak was the project British wisdom laid
To work one ruin, and the States subdue:
Had Andre's fortune seen West Point betrayed,
Fort Putnam lost, and Arnold with it, too,
Our young Republics might have scorn'd it all,
Have seized their castle and reclaimed the wall.
John Andre's bones from forty years repose
Now disinterred, repass the Atlantic deep:
Now pomp and pride a costlier tomb bestows,
Destined with heroes, and with kings to sleep.
Peace to them all—Tappan her charge restores
To moisten British eyes on British shores!
 

The Body was buried near the place of execution in October, 1779.