André's Request to Washington

It is not the fear of death
That damps my brow,
It is not for another breath
I ask thee now;
I can die with a lip unstirr'd
And a quiet heart--
Let but this prayer be heard
Ere I depart.

I can give up my mother's look--
My sister's kiss;
I can think of love--yet brook
A death like this!
I can give up the young fame
I burn'd to win--
All--but the spotless name
I glory in.

Thine is the power to give,
Thine to deny,
Joy for the hour I live--
Calmness to die.
By all the brave should cherish,
By my dying breath,
I ask that I may perish
By a soldier's death!