Richard Glover

After this proud foe subduing, When your patriot friends you see, Think on vengeance for my ruin, And for England sham'd in me.

Hence with all my train attending From their oozy tombs below, Through the hoary foam ascending Here I feed my constant woe.

Sent in this foul clime to languish Think what thousands fell in vain, Wasted with disease and anguish, Not in glorious battle slain.

To have fall'n, my country crying, He has play'd an English part, Had been better far than dying Of a griev'd and broken heart.

Heed, oh heed! my fatal story, I am Hosier's injur'd ghost; You who now have purchas'd glory At this place where I was lost.

As, near Porto Bello lying, On the gently swelling flood, At midnight, with streamers flying, Our triumphant navy rode.