BRFORD

INSCRIBED TO THE MEMORY OF

THE HONOURABLE COLONEL GEORGE VILLIERS,

DROWNED IN THE RIVER PIAVA, 1703.

IN IMITATION OF HORACE, I OD. XXVIII

"Te maris & terræ numeroque carentis arenæ
"Menforem cohibent, Archyta, &c."

SAY, deareft Villiers, poor departed friend
(Since fleeting life thus fuddenly muft end);
Say, what did all thy busy hopes avail,
That anxious thou from pole to pole didst fail,
on thy chin the springing beard began

Ere

To fpread a doubtful down, and promise man?
What profited thy thoughts, and toils, and cares,

In vigour

To wake,

more confirm'd, and riper years,

ere morning dawn, to loud alarms,

And march till clofe of night in heavy arms;

To fcorn the fummer's funs and winter's Inows,
And fearch through every clime thy country's foes;
That thou might'ft Fortune to thy fide engage;
That gentle Peace might quell Bellona's rage;
And Anna's bounty crown her foldier's hoary age?
In vain we think that free-will'd man has power
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 misled by chance,
Imperious Death directs his ebon lance;
Peoples great Henry's tombs, and leads up

dance.

Alike muft every state and every age Sustain the universal tyrant's rage :

Holben's

For neither William's power, nor Mary's charms,
Could or repel or pacify 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 refpite for the learned head:
Judges of writings and of men have dy'd;
Mæcenas, Sackville, Socrates, and Hyde:
And in their various turns the fons must tread
Thofe gloomy journies which their fires have led.

The ancient Sage, who did fo long maintain
That bodies die, but fouls return again,
With all the births and deaths he had in ftore,
Went out Pythagoras, and came no more.

And