| Citation |
NYWJ.740.025
8 Dec 1740:21 (366)
[Sent to The Champion.]
A SONG
TO ADMIRAL VERNON. To the tune of "The Abbot of Cant."
[1]
To Britain's bright genius,
And Vernon's just merit;
To the man who retains
A true British spirit
To that man of all men,
Who deserves our best praise,
As a tribute to truth
The glad muse tunes her lays.
[2]
Whose virtue and courage
If rightly sustain'd,
Had retriev'd our lost fame,
And new trophies had gain'd;
Ov'r the whole Spanish coast
Britain's thunder had hurl'd,
And, like Neptune, gave laws
To Columbo's new world.
[3]
This let fam'd Porto Bello,
And Chag[?]re declare!
Those earnests of vengeance!
Those first fruits of war!
Which, with six ships now only,
He lay'd in the dust,
To appease the sad groans
Of poor Hosier's ghosts
[4]
While at home we are plunder'd
By Spain's privateers,
And compound with our goods,
To secure us our ears,
While at anchor, in peace
Our bold navies remain,
And what Britain laments,
Is the laughter of Spain.
[5]
Hence our children will blush.
When our annals they read.
That so much we could do,
That so little we did;
That such forces were rais'd
As will scarce be believ'd,
But to eat, drink, and sleep,
When such wrongs were receiv'd.
[6]
Then Vernon's brave actions,
Unequall'd will shine;
His courage, his conduct,
Exalt ev'ry line;
While nameless they slumber,
Or hated, tho' dead,
Who, thro' envy condemn'd,
What they could not exceed,
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