Sent in this foul clime to languish

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

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

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.

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.

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

Oft cruel Wars contending Hermits wage, And long for the disputed Shell engage. The strongest will the doubtful Prize possess, Pow’r gives him Right, and All the Claim confess.