Chief of Confederate hofts, to fight the cause
Of Liberty and Justice, grateful rais'd
This palace, facred to her leader's fame :
A trophy of fuccefs; with spoils adorn'd
Of conquer'd towns, and glorying in the name
Of that aufpicious field, where Churchill's fword
Vanquish'd the might of Gallia, and chastis'd
Rebel Bavar.-Majestic in its strength,
Stands the proud dome, and speaks its great design,
Hail, happy chief, whofe valour could deferve
Reward fo glorious! grateful nation, hail,
Who paid ft his fervice with fo rich a meed!
Which moft fhall I admire, which worthieft praise,
The hero or the people? Honour doubts,
And weighs their virtues in an equal scale.
Not thus Germania pays th' uncancel'd debt
Of Gratitude to us.-Blush, Cæfar, blush,
When thou behold'st these towers; ingrate, to thee
A monument of shame! Canft thou forget
Whence they are nam'd, and what an English arm
Did for thy throne that day? But we disdain
Or to upbraid or imitate thy guilt.
Still thy obdurate heart against the fenfe
Of obligation infinite; and know,
Britain, like Heaven, protests a thankless world
For her own glory, nor expects reward.
Pleas'd with the noble theme, her task the Muse
Purfues untir'd, and through the palace roves
With ever-new delight. The tapestry rich
With gold, and gay with all the beauteous paint
Of various-colour'd filks, difpos'd with skill,
Attracts her curious eye. Here Ifter rolls
His purple wave; and there the Granick flood
With paffing fquadrons foams: here hardy Gaul.
Flies from the fword of Britain; there to Greece
Effeminate Persia yields.—In arms oppos'd,
Marlborough and Alexander vie for fame
With glorious competition; equal both
In valour and in fortune: but their praise
Be different, for with different views they fought
This to fubdue, and that to free mankind.
Now, through the ftately portals iffuing forth,.
The Mufe to fofter glories turns, and feeks
The woodland fhade, delighted. Not the vale
Of Tempe fam'd in fong, or Ida's grove,
Such beauty boafts. Amid the mazy gloom
Of this romantic wilderness once ftood
The bower of Rofamonda, hapless fair,
Sacred to Grief and Love; the crystal fount
In which fhe us'd to bathe her beauteous limbs -
Still warbling flows, pleas'd to reflect the face
Of Spencer, lovely maid, when tir'd the fits
Befide its flowery brink, and views thofe charms
Which only Rofamond could once excell.
But fee where, flowing with a nobler ftream,
A limpid lake of pureft waters rolls
Beneath the wide-ftretch'd arch, ftupendous work,
Through which the Danube might collected pour
His fpacious urn! Silent a while and smooth
The current glides, till with an headlong force
Broke and diforder'd, down the steep it falls
In loud cafcades; the filver-fparkling foam
Glitters relucent in the dancing ray.
In thefe retreats 'repos'd the mighty foul
Of Churchill, from the toils of war and state,
Splendidly private, and the tranquil joy
Of contemplation felt, while Blenheim's dome
Triumphal ever in his mind renew'd
The memory of his fame, and footh'd his thoughts
With pleafing record of his glorious deeds.
So, by the rage of Faction home recall'd,
Lucullus, while he wag'd fuccessful war
Against the pride of Afia, and the power
Of Mithridates, whofe afpiring mind
No loffes could fubduc, enrich'd with spoils.
Of conquer'd nations, back return'd to Rome,
And in magnificent retirement paft
The evening of his life. But not alone,
In the calm fhades of honourable cafe,
Great Marlborough peaceful dwelt: indulgent Heaven
Gave a companion to his fofter hours,
With whom converfing, he forgot all change
Of fortune, or of state, and in her mind
Found greatnefs equal to his own, and lov'd
Himfelf in her. Thus cach by each admir'd,
In mutual honour, mutual fondnefs join'd:
Like two fair ftars, with intermingled light,
In friendly union they together shone,
Aiding each other's brightnefs, till the cloud
Of night eternal quench'd the beams of one.
Thee, Churchill, firft the ruthlefs hand of death
Tore from thy confort's fide, and call'd thee hence
To the fublimer feats of joy and love;
Where fate again fhall join her foul to thine,
Who now, regardful of thy fame, erects
The column to thy praife, and fooths her woe
With pious honours to thy facred name
Immortal. Lo! where, towering in the height
Of yon aërial pillar, proudly stands
Thy image, like a guardian god, fublime,
And awes the fubje& plain :. beneath his feet,
The German eagles fpread their wings; his hand.
Grafps Victory, its flave. Such was thy brow
Majeftic, fuch thy martial port, when Gaul
Fled from thy frown, and in the Danube fought
A refuge from thy fword.-There, where the field
Was deepest ftain'd with gore, on. Hochftet's plain,
The theatre of thy glory, once was rais'd
A meaner trophy, by the Imperial hand
Extorted gratitude! which now the rage
Of malice impotent, befeeming ill
A regal breast, has level'd to the ground::
Mean infult! This, with better aufpices, ̧
Shall ftand on British earth, to tell the world'
How Marlborough fought, for whom, and how repaid His fervices. Nor fhall the conftant love
Of her who rais'd this monument be loft
In dark oblivion: that fhall be the theme.
Of future Bards in ages yet unborn,
Inspir'd with Chaucer's fire, who in these groves
First tun'd the British harp, and little deem'd
His humble dwelling fhould the neighbour be
Of Blenheim, houfe fuperb; to which the throng
Of travellers approaching fhall not pass
His roof unnoted, but refpectful hail
With reverence due. Such honour does the Mufe
Obtain her favourites.-But the noble pile
(My theme) demands my voice.-O fhade ador'd,
Marlborough! who now above the ftarry sphere
Dwell'ft in the palaces of heaven, enthron'd
Among the demi-gods, deign to defend
This thy abode, while prefent here below,
And facred still to thy immortal fame,
With tutelary care. Preferve it fafe
From Time's deftroying hand, and cruel ftroke
Of factious Envy's more relentless rage.
Here may, long ages hence, the British youth,
When honour calls them to the field of war,
Behold the trophies which thy valour rais'd;
The proud reward of thy fuccefsful toils
For Europe's freedom, and Britannia's fame;
That, fir'd with generous envy, they may dare
To emulate thy deeds.-So fhall thy name,
Dear to thy country, ftill infpire her fons
With martial virtue; and to high attempts
Excite their arms, till other battles won,
And nations fav'd, new monuments require,
And other Blenheims fhall adorn the land.
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