All their brass guns he took away, the iron ones he nailed And then threw them into the sea, before from thence he sailed, Many a jolly sailor’s pouch was cram’d with white and yellow, For they from plunder could not be kept in the town of Porto Bello. Besides, brave Vernon freely gave amongst his men as follows, Who bravely did themselves behave, full thirty thousand dollars, This must their courage animate; each tar is a rich fellow, And this is good encouragement for the taking Porto Bello. When he had stayed there nineteen days, with just resentment fir’d, Their forts demolished and castles rase’d he from them then retired, But first he to Panama sent for many a gallant fellow, Who in prison lay confin’d to be brought to Porto Bello. While trumpets they did loudly sound and colours were displaying, The prizes he with him brought away while sailors were huzzaing. And when they to Jamaica come, a glorious tale to tell O Of the noble action they had done in taking of Porto Bello. To Admiral Vernon toss off a glass, may heaven protect and defend him, And when he has the Spaniard thump’d, may a safe return attend him To Comodore Brown toss another down, and to each gallant fellow Who did so bravely play their parts at the taking of Porto Bello. _HOSIER’S GHOST._ To the Tune of _Come and Listen to My Ditty_. As near Porto Bello lying On the gently swelling flood, At midnight, with streamers flying, Our triumphant navy rode; There while Vernon sat all glorious From the Spaniards’ late defeat, And his crew with shouts victorious, Drank success to England’s fleet, On a sudden shrilly sounding, Hideous yells and shrieks were heard; Then, each heart with fear confounding, A sad troop of ghosts appear’d, All in dreary hammocks shrouded, Which for winding-sheets they wore, And with looks by sorrow clouded, Frowning on that hostile shore. On them gleam’d the moon’s wan lustre, When the shade of Hosier brave His pale band was seen to muster, Rising from their watery grave. O’er the glimmering wave he hied him, Where the _Burford_ rear’d her sail, With three thousand ghosts beside him, And in groans did Vernon hail. ‘Heed, O heed our fatal story,-- I am Hosier’s injur’d ghost,-- You who now have purchased glory At this place where I was lost! Though in Porto Bello’s ruin You now triumph free from fears, When you think on our undoing, You will mix your joy with tears.