t

But who the expected husband husband is?
His hands, methinks, are bath'd in flaughter;
Ah me! what ghaftly spectre's yon

Comes in his pale shroud, bleeding after?

Pale as he is, here lay him, lay him down,
O lay his cold head on my pillow;
Take aff, take aff these bridal weids,

And crown my careful head with willow.

Pale tho' thou art, yet beft, yet best beluv'd,
O could my warmth to life restore thee!
Yet lye all night between my breists,
No youth lay ever there before thee.

Pale, pale indeed, O luvely luvely youth,
Forgive, forgive fo foul a flaughter,

And lye all night between my breifts,

No youth fhall ever lye there after.

Return, return, O mournful, mournful bride,
Return and dry thy useless forrow:

Thy luver heeds none of thy fighs,

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He lyes a corps in the Braes of Yarrow.

XXV. AD

XXV.

ADMIRAL HOSIER'S GHOST,

was a Party Song written by the ingenious author of LEONIDAS *, on the taking of Porto Bello from the Spaniards by Almiral Vernon, Nov. 22, 1739.-The cafe of Hofier, which is here fo pathetically reprefented, was briefly this. In April, 1720, that commander was fent with a Strong feet into the Spanish Weft-Indies, to block up the gal leons in the ports of that country, or should they prefume to come out, to feize and carry them into England: be accordingly arrived at the Baftimentos near Porto Bello, but being em ployed rather to overawe than to attack the Spaniards, with whom it was probably not our intereft to go to war, he continued long inactive on that fiation, to his own great regret. He afterwards removed to Carthagena, and remained cruizing in thefe feas, till far the greater part of his men perished deplorably by the difeafes of that unhealthy climate. This brave man. Seeing his beft officers and men thus daily fwept away, his hips expofed to inevitable deftruction, and bimfelf made the port of the enemy, is faid to have died of a broken heart. Such is the account of Smollett, compared with that of other lefs partial writers.

The following fong is commonly accompanied with a Second Part, or Anfuser, which being of inferior merit, and ap▪ parently written by another hand, hath been rejected.

A

S near Porto-Bello lying

On the gently fwelling flood,

At midnight with streamers flying

Our triumphant navy rode;

An ingenious Correfpendent informs the Editor, that this Ballad hith

been alfo attributed to the late Lord Bath.

Th

There while Vernon fate all-glorious

From the Spaniards' late defeat: And his crews, with fhouts victorious, Drank fuccefs to England's fleet:

On a fudden fhrilly founding,

Hideous yells and shrieks were heard ;
Then each heart with fear confounding,
A fad troop of ghofts appear'd,

All in dreary hammocks fhrouded,
Which for winding-fheets they wore,
And with locks by forrow clouded
Frowning on that hoftile fhore.

On them gleam'd the moon's wan luftre,
When the fhade of Hofier brave
His pale bands was seen to muster
Rifing from their watry grave.
O'er the glimmering wave he hy'd him,
Where the Burford * rear'd her fail,
With three thousand ghosts beside him,
And in groans did Vernon hail.

Heed, oh heed our fatal ftory,

I am Hofier's injur'd ghoft,

You, who now have purchas'd glory,

At this place where I was loft!

* Admiral Vernon's shipu

Tho' in Porto-Bello's ruin

You now triumph free from fears, When you think on our undoing, You will mix your joy with tears.

See these mournful spectres fweeping
Ghaftly o'er this hated wave,

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Whose wan cheeks are ftain'd with weeping; 35 Thefe were English captains brave.

Mark thofe numbers pale and horrid,

Those were once my failors bold:

Lo, each hangs his drooping forehead,
While his difmal tale is told.

I, by twenty fail attended,

Did this Spanish town affright; Nothing then its wealth defended

But my orders not to fight. Oh! that in this rolling ocean

I had caft them with disdain,

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45

And obey'd my heart's warm motion

To have quell'd the pride of Spain!

For refiftance I could fear none,

But with twenty fhips had done.

50

What thou, brave and happy Vernon,
Haft atchiev'd with fix alone.

Then

Then the bastimentos never

Had our foul dishonour feen,

Nor the fea the fad receiver

$5

Of this gallant train had been,

Thus, like thee, proud Spain difinaying,
And her galleons leading home,
Though condemn'd for disobeying,

I had met a traitor's doom,
To have fallen, my country crying

He has play'd an English part,

Had been better far than dying
Of a griev'd and broken heart.

Unrepining at thy glory,

Thy fuccessful arms we hail;
But remember our sad story,

And let Hofier's wrongs prevail.
Sent in this foul clime to languish,
Think what thousands fell in vain,
Wafted with disease and anguish,
Not in glorious battle flain.

Hence with all my train attending

From their oozy tombs below,

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