An ODE . Inscribed to the Memory of the Hon ble Col. George Villiers , Drowned in the River Piava , in the Country of Friuli . 1703. In Imitation of Horace , Ode 28. Lib. 1. Te Maris & Terræ numeroque carentis arenæ Mensorem cohibent , Archyta , &c. Say , dearest Villiers , poor departed Friend ( Since fleeting Life thus suddenly must end ) Say , what did all thy busie Hopes avail , That anxious Thou from Pole to Pole didst sail ; E'er on thy Chin the springing 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 close of Night in heavy Arms ? To scorn the Summer Suns and Winter Snows , And search thro' ev'ry Clime thy Country's Foes ? That Thou might'st 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 hasten 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 Foresight , nor mis-led by Chance , Imperious Death directs His Ebon Lance ; Peoples great Henry's Tombs , and leads up Holben's Dance . Alike must ev'ry State , and ev'ry Age Sustain the universal 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 ; Mecænas , 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 so long maintain , That Bodies die , but Souls return again , With all the Births and Deaths He had in Store , Went out Pythagoras , and came no more . And modern A—l , whose capricious Thought Is yet with Stores of wilder Notion fraught , Too soon convinc'd , shall yield that fleeting Breath , Which play'd so idly with the Darts of Death . Some from the stranded Vessel force their Way : Fearful of Fate , they meet it in the Sea : Some who escape the Fury of the Wave , Sicken on Earth , and sink into a Grave : In Journeys or at home , in War or Peace , By Hardships Many , Many fall by Ease . Each changing Season does it's Poison bring : Rheums chill the Winter ; Agues blast the Spring : Wet , Dry , Cold , Hot , at the appointed Hour , All act subservient to the Tyrant's Pow'r : And when obedient Nature knows His Will , A Fly , a Grape-stone , or a Hair can kill . For restless Proserpine for ever treads In Paths unseen , o'er our devoted Heads ; And on the spacious Land , and liquid Main Spreads slow Disease , or darts afflictive Pain : Variety of Deaths confirms her endless Reign . On curst Piava's Banks the Goddess stood ; Show'd her dire Warrant to the rising Flood ; When What I long must love , and long must mourn , With fatal Speed was urging his Return ; In his dear Country to disperse his Care , And arm himself by Rest for future War ; To chide his anxious Friend's officious Fears , And promise to their Joys his elder Years . Oh ! destin'd Head ; and oh ! severe Decree : Nor native Country Thou , nor Friend shalt see ; Nor War hast thou to wage , nor Year to come : Impending Death is thine , and instant Doom . Hark ! the imperious Goddess is obey'd : Winds murmur ; Snows descend ; and Waters spread : Oh ! Kinsman , Friend , — O ! vain are all the Cries Of human Voice ; strong Destiny replies : Weep You on Earth ; for He shall sleep below : Thence None return ; and thither All must go . Whoe'er Thou art , whom Choice or Business leads To this sad River , or the neighb'ring Meads ; If Thou may'st happen on the dreary Shoars To find the Object which This Verse deplores ; Cleanse the pale Corps with a religious Hand From the polluting Weed and common Sand ; Lay the dead Hero graceful in a Grave ; ( The only Honor 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 just Heav'n secure thy future Life From foreign Dangers , and domestic Strife : And when th' Infernal Judges dismal Pow'r From the dark Urn shall throw Thy destin'd Hour ; When yielding to the Sentence , breathless Thou And pale shalt lye , as what Thou buriest now ; May some kind Friend the piteous Object see , And equal Rites perform to That which once was Thee .