BLENHEIM. Written at the University of Oxford in the Year 1727. George Lyttelton, 1st Baron Lyttelton Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
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Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T131163 K104099.002 Dodsley, Robert, 1703-1764. A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes. By Several Hands. Vol. II. London printed by J. Hughs, for R. and J. Dodsley 1763 [1st ed. 1758] pp. 19-25. 6v.: music; 8⁰.

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BLENHEIM . Written at the University of Oxford in the Year 1727. By the Same . PARENT of arts , whose skilful hand first taught The tow'ring pile to rise , and form'd the plan With fair proportion ; architect divine , Minerva , thee to my advent'rous lyre Assistant I invoke , the means to sing BLENHEMIA , monument of British fame , Thy glorious work ! for thou the lofty tow'rs Didst to his virtue raise , whom oft thy shield In peril guarded , and thy wisdom steer'd Through all the storms of war . — Thee too I call , Thalia , sylvan Muse , who lov'st to rove Along the shady paths and verdant bow'rs Of Woodstock's happy grove : there tuning sweet Thy rural pipe , while all the Dryad train Attentive listen ; let thy warbling song Paint with melodious praise the pleasing scene , And equal these to Pindus' honour'd shades . When Europe freed , confess'd the saving pow'r Of MARLB'ROUGH'S hand ; Britain who sent him forth Chief of confed'rate hosts , to fight the cause Of Liberty and Justice , grateful rais'd This palace sacred to her Leader's fame ; A trophy of success ; with spoils adorn'd Of conquer'd towns , and glorying in the name Of that auspicious field , where CHURCHILL'S sword Vanquish'd the might of Gallia , and chastis'd Rebel Bavar. — Majestick in its strength Stands the proud dome , and speaks its great design . Hail happy Chief , whose valour could deserve Reward so glorious ! grateful nation hail , Who paid'st his service with so rich a meed ! Which most shall I admire , which worthiest praise , The Hero or the People ? Honour doubts , And weighs their virtues in an equal scale . Not thus Germania pays th' uncancell'd debt Of gratitude to us . — Blush , Caesar , blush , When thou behold'st these tow'rs , ingrate to thee A monument of shame . Canst 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 . Steel thy obdurate heart against the sense Of obligation infinite , and know , Britain , like Heav'n , protects a thankless world For her own glory , nor expects reward . Pleas'd with the noble theme , her task the Muse Pursues untir'd , and through the palace roves With ever-new delight . The tap'stry rich With gold , and gay with all the beauteous paint Of various-colour'd silks , dispos'd with skill , Attracts her curious eye . Here Ister rolls His purple wave ; and there the Granic flood With passing squadrons foams : here hardy Gaul Flies from the sword of Britain ; there to Greece Effeminate Persia yields . — In arms oppos'd MARLB'ROUGH and ALEXANDER vie for fame With glorious competition ; equal both In valour and in fortune , but their praise Be diff'rent , for with diff'rent views they fought ; This to subdue , and that to free mankind . Now through the stately portals issuing forth , The Muse to softer glories turns and seeks The woodland shade , delighted . Not the vale Of Tempé fam'd in song , or Ida's grove Such beauty boasts . Amid the mazy gloom Of this romantick wilderness once stood The bow'r of Rosamonda , hapless fair , Sacred to grief and love : the crystal fount In which she us'd to bathe her beauteous limbs Still warbling flows , pleas'd to reflect the face Of SPENCER , lovely maid , when tir'd she fits Beside its flow'ry brink , and views those charms Which only Rosamond could once excel . But see where flowing with a nobler stream , A limpid lake of purest waters rolls Beneath the wide-stretch'd arch , stupendous work , Through which the Danube might collected pour His spacious urn ! Silent awhile and smooth The current glides , till with an headlong force Broke and disorder'd , down the steep it falls In loud cascades ; the silver-sparkling foam Glitters relucent in the dancing ray . In these retreats repos'd the mighty soul 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 mem'ry of his fame , and sooth'd his thoughts With pleasing record of his glorious deeds . So by the rage of faction , home recall'd , Lucullus , while he wag'd successful war Against the pride of Asia , and the pow'r Of Mithridates , whose aspiring mind No losses could subdue , enrich'd with spoils Of conquer'd nations , back return'd to Rome , And in magnificent retirement past The evening of his life . — But not alone , In the calm shades of honourable ease , Great MARLB'ROUGH peaceful dwelt : Indulgent heav'n Gave a companion to his softer hours , With whom conversing , he forgot all change Of fortune , or of taste , and in her mind Found greatness equal to his own , and lov'd Himself in her . — Thus each by each admir'd , In mutual honour , mutual fondness join'd : Like two fair stars with intermingled light , In friendly union they together shone , Aiding each other's brightness , till the cloud Of night eternal quench'd the beams of one . Thee CHURCHILL first the ruthless hand of death Tore from thy consort's side , and call'd thee hence To the sublimer seats of joy and love ; Where Fate again shall join her soul to thine , Who now , regardful of thy fame , erects The column to thy praise , and sooths her woe With pious honours to thy sacred name Immortal . Lo ! where tow'ring on the height Of yon aërial pillar proudly stands Thy image , like a guardian god , sublime , And awes the subject plain : beneath his feet , The German eagles spread their wings , his hand Grasps Victory , its slave . Such was the brow Majestick , such thy martial port , when Gaul Fled from thy frown , and in the Danube sought A refuge from thy sword . — There , where the field Was deepest stain'd with gore , on Hochstet's plain , The theatre of thy glory , once was rais'd A meaner trophy , by th' Imperial hand ; Extorted gratitude ; which now the rage Of Malice impotent , beseeming ill A regal breast , has levell'd to the ground : Mean insult ! this with better auspices Shall stand on British earth , to tell the world How MARLB'ROUGH fought , for whom , and how repay'd His services . Nor shall the constant love Of her who rais'd the monument be lost In dark oblivion : That shall 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 should the neighbour be Of BLENHEIM , house superb ; to which the throng Of travellers approaching , shall not pass His roof unnoted , but respectful hail With rev'rence due . Such honour does the Muse Obtain her favourites . — But the noble pile ( My theme ) demands my voice . — O shade ador'd , MARLB'ROUGH ! who now above the starry sphere Dwell'st in the palaces of heav'n , enthron'd Amongst the demi-gods , deign to defend This thy abode , while present here below , And sacred still to thy immortal fame , With tutelary care . Preserve it safe From Time's destroying hand , and cruel stroke 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 successful toils For Europe's freedom , and Britannia's fame : That fir'd with gen'rous envy , they may dare To emulate thy deeds . — So shall thy name , Dear to thy country , still inspire her sons With martial virtue : and to high attempts Excite their arms , till other battles won , And nations sav'd , new Monuments require , And other BLENHEIMS shall adorn the land .