Classic Poem

On a set day, fell Death, queen of the world, —
In hell assembled all her fearful court
That 'mongst them she might choose a minister
Would render her estate more flourishing.
As candidates for the dread office came,
With measured strides, from Tartarus' lowest depth,
Fever, and Gout, and War — a trio
To whose gifts all earth and hell bare witness —
The queen reception gave them.
Then came Plague,
And none his claims and merit might deny.
Still, when a doctor paid his visit, too,
Opinion wavered which would win the day.
Nor could Queen Death herself at once decide.
But when the Vices came her choice fell quick —
She chose Excess.