At dead of night, when all was silent and many thousands fast asleep, I, by two female friends attended, into the burying ground did creep. Our trembling hands did serve as shovels with which the mould we moved away, And then the body of my husband carried off without delay. A mourning coach for him was waiting: we drove to London with all speed, Where decently I had him buried and a sermon o’er him said. And now his sorrows are all over, and he’s free from guilt and pain; I hope in heaven his soul is shining, where I shall meet with him again. Farewell, Parker, thou bright angel! once thou wert the Navy’s pride; Since we did not die together, separate we must abide. I must wait awhile with patience; on earth I hope not long to stay, When we shall meet once more in glory, and all our sins be wash’d away. _A NEW SONG IN PRAISE OF ADMIRAL DUNCAN._ By J. PRAT. Tune _Arethusa_ To tame the Dutch, our treacherous foes, And give Mynheers a bloody nose, Brave Duncan to the Texel goes, Expecting they would meet him. Many boisterous nights and days We roll’d upon the raging seas, Enduring hardships various ways; Wind and cold, in storms we roll’d, Yet our tars and admirals bold Resolved they would beat them. No toils nor storms the Dutch endure, But snug at home they sleep secure, And judge it safe not to unmoor While Duncan keeps his station. When our brave Admiral saw their plan, He said, ‘We’ll ’tice them if we can: Let it be known that we are gone To Yarmouth Roads to take on board Fresh wholesome stores our isles afford-- They’ll credit the relation.’ Then we bore off for England’s shore, And moored in Yarmouth Roads once more. Our anchors soon the deep explore; We quickly were refitted. Our Admiral soon a signal ’spies: ‘Prepare, my lads!’ he loudly cries; ‘The proud Mynheer from the Texel steers; Our anchors weigh--make no delay, We’ll shew our cowardly enemy ’Tis in vain for to escape us.’ The shore we clear’d, and off we steer’d, And soon in sight the Dutch appear’d; The signal rose, the sailors cheer’d, And quickly rang’d for battle. All hands then to their quarters run, Each tar with courage seiz’d his gun; At twelve the bloody fight begun, At every fire our foes expire; We drubbed them to our heart’s desire: God prosper British sailors!