"Mark those numbers pale and horrid, "Those were once my sailors bold, "Lo each hangs his drooping forehead, "While his dismal tale is told.

"I by twenty sail attended,

"Did this Spanish town affright; 66 Nothing then its wealth defended

66

But my

orders not to fight:

"O! that in this rolling ocean

"I had cast them with disdain,

"And obey'd my hearts' warm motion, "To have quell'd the pride of Spain;

"For resistance I could fear none,
"But with twenty ships had done
"What thou brave and happy Vernon,
"Hast atchieved with six alone,

"Then the Bastimentos never

"Had our foul dishonour seen,

"Nor the sea the sad receiver

"Of this gallant train had been.

“Then, like thee, proud Spain dismayings "And her galleons leading home,

86

Though condemn'd, for disobeying
“had met a traitor's doom,

"To have fallen, my country crying,
"He has played an English part,
"Had been better far than dying
"Of a grieved and broken heart.

66

66

Unrepining at thy glory,

Thy successful arins we hail; But remember our sad story, "And let Hosier's wrongs preval. "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 feel my constant woe:
"Here the Bastimentos viewing,
"We recall our shameful doom,
"And our plaintive cries renewing,

"Wander through the midnight gloom.

"

Oer these waves for ever mourning, "Shall we roam deprived of rest, "If to Britain's shores returning

"You neglect my just request; "After this proud foe subduing, "When your patriot friends you see, "Think on vengeance for my ruin, "And for England shamed in me.""

MYLES COOPER.

1785.

The following specimens are the best which could be se lected, from a volume of very indifferent Poems, on Several Occasions.'-Printed at Oxford, 1761; the author was of Queens' College.

EPITAPH.

"LIFE is a jest" the bard averr'd,
Whose nice conception seldom err'd,
Yet, friend of mine, let me advise;
Be never merry more than wise.
This mean unless thou well discernest,
I fear the jest will turn to earnest.

THE TURNCOAT.

AN EPIGRAM:

Written at a General Election.

His head long since, Sir Gusman turn'd, 'Twas pity no man thought;

But all the world seem'd much concern'd, When Gusman turn'd his coat.

The contest ended, he has got
This comfort for his pains,

To see how much we think his coat
Is better than his brains.

ON THE SAME.

A turncoat! Heavens, it cannot be;
The Knight would never turn, not he
The very thought is shocking:
Except he sagely sought to hide
Some desperate hole on t'other side,

As Teague once turn'd his stocking