Infcribed to the Memory of the
Honble Col. George Villiers,
Drowned in the River Piava, in the
Country of Friuli. 1703.
In Imitation of Horace, Ode 28. Lib.
Te Maris & Terra numeroque carentis arena
Menforem cohibent, Archyta, &c.
SAY, dearest VILLIERS, poor departed Friend,
(Since fleeting Life thus fuddenly must end)
Say, what did all thy bufie Hopes avail,
That anxious Thou from Pole to Pole didft fail;
E'er on thy Chin the fpringing Beard began
To spread a doubtful Down, and promise Man?
What profited thy Thoughts, and Toils, and Cares,
In Vigour more confirm'd, and riper Years?
To wake e'er Morning-dawn to loud Alarms,
And march 'till clofe of Night in heavy Arms?
To fcorn the Summer Suns and Winter Snows,
And search thro' ev'ry Clime thy Country's Foes?
That Thou might'ft Fortune to thy Side ingage;
That gentle Peace might quell BELLONA's Rage;
And ANNA'S Bounty crown Her Soldier's hoary Age?
In vain We think that free-will'd Man has Pow'r To haften or protract th'appointed Hour. Our Term of Life depends not on our Deed: Before our Birth our Funeral was decreed. Nor aw'd by Forefight, nor mif-led by Chance, Imperious Death directs His Ebon Lance; [Dance. Peoples great HENRY'S Tombs, and leads up HOLBEN'S
Alike muft ev'ry State, and ev'ry Age
Sustain the univerfal Tyrant's Rage:
For neither WILLIAM'S Pow'r, nor MARY'S Charms
Could or repel, or pacifie his Arms:
Young CHURCHILL fell, as Life began to bloom:
And BRADFORD's trembling Age expects the Tomb.
Wisdom and Eloquence in vain would plead
One Moment's Respite for the learned Head:
Judges of Writings and of Men have dy'd;
MECENAS, SACKVILLE, SOCRATES, and HYDE:
And in their various Turns the Sons must tread
Those gloomy Journeys, which their Sires have led.
The ancient Sage, who did fo long maintain,
That Bodies die, but Souls return again,
With all the Births and Deaths He had in Store,
Went out PYTHAGOR AS, and came no more.
And modern ASL, whofe capricious Thought
Is yet with Stores of wilder Notion fraught,
Too foon convinc'd, fhall yield that fleeting Breath,
Which play'd fo idly with the Darts of Death.
Some from the stranded Veffel force their Way;
Fearful of Fate, they meet it in the Sea:
Some who escape the Fury of the Wave,
Sicken on Earth, and fink into a Grave: or E
In Journeys or at home, in War or Peace,
By Hardships Many, Many fall by Eafe.
Each changing Seafon does it's Poison bring;
Rheums chill the Winter, Agues blast the Spring:
Wet, Dry, Cold, Hot, at the appointed Hour,
All act fubfervient to the Tyrant's Pow'r ::
And when obedient Nature knows His Will,
A Fly, a Grape-ftone, or a Hair can kill.
For restless PROSERPINE for ever treads
In Paths unfeen, o'er our devoted Heads;
And on the spacious Land, and liquid Main
Spreads flow Disease, or darts afflictive Pain:
Variety of Deaths confirms her endlefs Reign.
On curft PIAVA's Banks the Goddess food,
Show'd her dire Warrant to the rifing Flood;
When What I long muft love, and long must mourn,
With fatal Speed was urging his Return;
In his dear Country to disperse his Care,
And arm himself by Reft for future War;
To chide his anxious Friends officious Fears,
And promise to their Joys his elder Years.
Oh! deftin'd Head; and oh! fevere Decree; Nor native Country Thou, nor Friend fhalt fee;
Nor War haft thou to wage, nor Year to come:
Impending Death is thine, and instant Doom.
Hark! the imperious Goddess is obey'd: Winds murmur; Snows defcend; and Waters spread: Oh! Kinsman, Friend,Oh! vain are all the Cries Of human Voice; ftrong Destiny replies:
Weep You on Earth; for He fhall fleep below:
Thence None return; and thither All muft
Whoe'er Thou art, whom Choice or Bufinefs leads To this fad River, or the neighb'ring Meads ; If Thou may'st happen on the dreary Shoars To find the Object which This Verfe deplores; Cleanse the pale Corps with a religious Hand From the polluting Weed and common. Sand; i Lay the dead Hero graceful in a Grave; (The only Honour He can now receive) And fragrant Mould upon his Body throw; And plant the Warrior Lawrel o'er his Brow: Light lye the Earth; and flourish green the Bough.
So may juft Heav'n fecure thy future Life/
From foreign Dangers, and domestic Strife:
And when th' Infernal Judges difmal Pow'r
From the dark Urn fhall throw Thy deftin'd Hour;
When yielding to the Sentence, breathlefs Thou:
And pale fhalt lye, as what Thou burieft now;
May some kind Friend the piteous Object fee,
And equal Rites perform, to That which once was Thee.
On Her Majefty's Birth-Day, 1704.
HINE forth, Ye Planets, with distinguish'd Light,
As when Ye hallow'd firft this Happy Night:
Again tranfmit your Friendly Beams to Earth,
As when BRITANNIA joy'd for ANNA's Birth:
And Thou, propitious Star, whofe facred Pow'r
Prefided o'er the Monarch's Natal Hour,
Thy Radiant Voyages for ever run,
Yielding to none but CYNTHIA, and the Sun:
With Thy fair Afpect ftill illuftrate Heav'n:
Kindly preferve what Thou haft greatly giv'n:
Thy Influence for thy ANNA We implore:
Prolong One Life; and BRITAIN asks no more.
For Virtue can no ampler Power express,
Than to be Great in War, and Good in Peace:
For Thought no higher Wish of Bliss can frame,
Than to enjoy that Virtue STILL THE SAME.
Entire and fure the Monarch's Rule muft prove,
Who founds Her Greatnefs on Her Subjects Love;
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