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He shakes his bag, he shows all fair ;
Vice now stept forth, and took the place,
“This magic looking-glass,' she cries,
Next, to a senator addressing,
Twelve bottles ranged upon the board,
A purse she to a thief exposed ;
She bids Ambition hold a wand;
A box of charity she shows. · Blow here ;' and a churchwarden blows. 'Tis vanish'd with conveyance neat, And on the table smokes a treat.
She shakes the dice, the board she knocks, And from all pockets fills her box.
A counter, in a miser's hand, Grew twenty guineas at command.
She bids his heir the sum retain,
A guinea with her touch you see
The Juggler now, in grief of heart,
"Can I such matchless sleight withstand ?
When Britain first at Heaven's command
Arose from out the azure main, This was the charter of her land,
And guardian angels sung the strain: Rule Britannia! Britannia rules the waves!
Britons never shall be slaves.
The nations not so blest as thee
Must in their turn to tyrants fall, Whilst thou shalt flourish great and free,
The dread and envy of them all. Still more majestic shalt thou rise,
More dreadful from each foreign stroke ; As the loud blast that tears the skies
Serves but to root thy native oak. Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame;
All their attempts to bend thee down Will but arouse thy generous flame,
And work their woe and thy renown.
To thee belongs the rural reign;
Thy cities shall with commerce shine;
And every shore it circles thine!
The Muses, still with Freedom found,
Shall to thy happy coast repair ;
And manly hearts to guard the fair :-
ADMIRAL HOSIER'S GHOST.
ON THE TAKING OF PORTO-BELLO BY ADMIRAL VERNON.
NOV. 22, 1739.
As near Porto-Bello lying
On the gently swelling flood,
Our triumphant navy rode:
From the Spaniards' late defeat;
Drank success to England's fleet ;
On a sudden, shrilly sounding,
Hideous yells and shrieks were heard ;
A sad troop of ghosts appeared,
Which for winding-sheets they wore,
Frowning on that hostile shore.
On them gleamed the moon's wan lustre,
When the shade of Hosier brave
Rising from their watery grave:
Where the Burford reared her sail,
And in groans did Vernon hail : 'Heed, O heed, our fatal story.
I am Hosier's injured ghost,
At this place where I was lost;
You now triumph free from fears, When you think on our undoing,
You will mix your joy with tears.
Ghastly o'er this hated wave,
These were English captains brave:
Those were once my sailors bold,
While his dismal tale is told. 1, by twenty sail attended,
Did this Spanish town affright : Nothing then its wealth defended
But my orders not to fight :
I had cast them with disdain,
To have quelled the pride of Spain.
But with twenty ships had done
What thou, brave and happy Vernon,
Hast achieved with six alone. Then the Bastimentos never
Had our foul dishonour seen,
Of this gallant train had been.
And her galleons leading home,
I had met a traitor's doom ;
He has played an English part,
Of a grieved and broken heart. Unrepining at thy glory,
Thy successful arms we hail; But remember our sad story,
And let Hosier's wrongs prevail ; Sent in this foul clime to languish,
Think what thousands fell in vain, Wasted with disease and anguish,
Not in glorious battle slain. · Hence, with all my train attending
From their oozy tombs below, Through the hoary foam ascending,
Here I feed my constant woe: Here the Bastimentos viewing,
We recall our shameful doom, And our plaintive cries renewing,
Wander through the midnight gloom. • O'er these waves for ever mourning
Shall we roam, deprived of rest, If to Britain's shores returning,
You neglect my just request.