To DEATH. An IRREGULAR ODE. Stephen Duck Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T90234 K073280.000 Duck, Stephen, 1705-1756. Poems on several occasions: By Stephen Duck. London printed for the author 1736 pp. 140-147. xl,334,[2]p. ; 4⁰.

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To DEATH . An IRREGULAR ODE . I. HAIL , formidable KING ! My Muse thy dreaded Fame shall sing . Why should old HOMER's pompous Lays Immortalize ACHILLES' Praise ? Or why should ADDISON's harmonious Verse Our MARLBRO's nobler Deeds rehearse ? Alas ! no more these Heroes shine ; Their Pow'r is all subdu'd by Thine . Where are these mighty Leaders now , Great POMPEY , CAESAR , and Young AMMON too , Who thought he drew immortal Breath ? These bold ambitious Sons of MARS , Who dy'd the Globe with bloody Wars , Are vanquish'd all by thee , victorious DEATH ! II . EV'N while they liv'd , their Martial Hate But firmer fix'd thy Throne ; Nor , tho' it hasten'd others Fate , Could it delay their own . Nor didst thou want their Rage to kill ; Thy own can execute thy Will : Whene'er thou dost exert thy Pow'r , A thousand morbid Troops thy Call obey ; Sometimes thy wasting Plagues devour , And sweep whole Realms away . Now with contagious Biles the City mourns , And now thy scorching Fever burns , Or trembling Quartan chills ; Of Heat and Cold the dire Extremes Now freeze , now fire the Blood with Flames , Till various Torment kills . III . CONSUMPTIONS , and Rheumatic Pain , And Apoplectic Fits , that rack the Brain ; Soul-panting Asthmas , Dropsy , and Catarrh , Gout , Palsy , Lunacy , and black Despair ; Pangs , that neglected Lovers feel ; Corroding Jealousy , their earthly Hell , Which makes the injur'd Woman wild ; And pow'rful Spleen , that gets the Man with Child ; Physicians , Surgeons , Bawds , and Whores , and Wine , Are all obsequious Ministers of Thine ; Nay , and RELIGION too , When Hypocrites their Interest pursue , Or frantic Zeal inspires , It calls for Racks , and Wheels , and Fires : Then all our mystic Articles of Faith , Instead of saving Life , become the Cause of DEATH . IV . GREAT MONARCH ! how secure must be thy Crown , When all these Things conspire to prop thy Throne ? Yet , in thy universal Reign , Thou dost not use tyrannic Sway . Whate'er the Weak and Tim'rous say , Who tremble at thy Frown ; Thou art propitious to our Pain , And break'st the groaning Pris'ner's Chain , Which Tyranny put on . In Thee the Lover quits his Care , Nor longer courts the cruel Fair , Her Coldness mourns no more : In Thee Ambition ends its Race , And finds , at length , the destin'd Place , It ne'er could find before : The Merchant too , who plows the Main , In greedy Quest of Gain , By Thee to happier Climes is brought , Than those his wild , insatiate Av'rice sought . V. PROPITIOUS Succourer of the Distrest , Who often , by the Dead , dost make the Living blest ! How could profusive Heirs attend Their Mistress , Bottle , Ball , and Play , If timely Thou wert-not their Friend , To snatch the scraping Sire away ? How would dull Poets weary Time With their insipid Rhyme , And teaze and tire the Readers Ears With Party Feuds , and Paper Wars , If Thou , great Critic ! didst not use Thy Pow'r , to point a Period for their Muse ? The Bard , at thy decisive Will , Discards his mercenary Quill ; Then all his mighty Volumes lie Hid in the peaceful Tomb of vast Obscurity . VI . I , like the rest , advance my Lays ; With uncouth Numbers , rumble forth a Song , Sedately dull , to celebrate thy Praise ; And lash , and spur the heavy lab'ring Muse along : But soon the fatal Time must come , ( Ordain'd by Heav'n's unerring Doom ) When Thou shalt cut the vital Thread , And shove the verbal Embryos from my Head . Then , since I'm sure to meet my Fate , How vain would Hope appear ? Since Fear cannot protract the Date , How foolish 'twere to fear ? I'll strive , at least , to stand prepar'd , Thy Summons to obey ; Nor would I think thy Sentence hard , Nor wish , nor fear the Day ; But live in conscious Peace , and die without Dismay . VII . FALLACIOUS Reas'ners wrong Thee , when They call thy Laws severe ; Severe ! to whom ? To wicked Men ; Then let the Wicked fear . Thou judgest all with equal Laws , No venal Witness backs thy Cause , No Bribes to Thee are known ; If thy impartial Hand but strike , The Prince and Peasant fall alike , The Courtier , and the Clown . What tho' a-while the Beggar groans , While Kings enjoy their gilded Thrones ? What are Distinctions , Pomp , and Regal Train , And Honours , got with Care , and kept with Pain ? One friendly Stroke of thine sets level all again . All earthly Grandeur must decline ; Nay , ev'n Great GEORGE's Pow'r submit to thine : But thy Dominion shall endure , Till PHOEBUS measures Time no more : Then all shall be in dark Oblivion cast , And ev'ry mortal Kingdom fall ; but thine shall fall the last .