To the DUKE of MARLBOROUGH. Stephen Clay 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. T131163 K104099.005 Dodsley, Robert, 1703-1764. A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes. By Several Hands. Vol. V. London printed by J. Hughs, for R. and J. Dodsley 1763 [1st ed. 1758] pp. 130-132. 6v.: music; 8⁰.

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To the DUKE of MARLBOROUGH . PARDON , great Duke , if Britain's stile delights ; Or if th' Imperial title more invites ; Pardon , great Prince , the failings of a Muse , That dares not hope for more than your excuse , Forc'd at a distance to attempt your praise , And sing your victories in mournful lays , To cast in shadows , and allay the light , That wounds , with nearer rays , the dazled sight , Nor durst in a direct and open strain Such acts , with her unhallow'd notes , prophane : In tow'ring verse let meaner heroes grow , And to elab'rate lines their greatness owe , Your actions , own'd by ev'ry nation , want Praises , no greater than a foe may grant . Oh ! when shall Europe , by her MARLBRO'S sword , To lasting peace and liberty restor'd , Allow her weary champion a retreat , To his lov'd country and his rising seat ? Where your soft partner , far from martial noise , Your cares shall sweeten with domestic joys : Your conquests she with doubtful pleasure hears , And in the midst of ev'ry triumph fears ; Betwixt her queen and you divides her life , A friend obsequious , and a faithful wife . Hail Woodstock ! hail ye celebrated glades ! Grow fast ye woods , and flourish thick ye shades ! Ye rising tow'rs for your new lord prepare , Like your old Henry come from Gallia's war . The gen'ral's arms as far the king's o'erpow'r , As this new structure does surpass the bow'r . The pleasing prospects and romantic scite , The spacious compass , and the stately height ; The painted gardens , in their flow'r prime , Demand whole volumes of immortal rhime , And if the Muse would second the design , Mean as they are , should in my numbers shine , There live , the joy and wonder of our isles , Happy in Albion's love , and ANNA'S smiles . While from the godlike race of CHURCHILL born , Four beauteous Rosamonds this bow'r adorn , Who with the ancient syren of the place In charms might vie , and ev'ry blooming grace ; But bless'd with equal virtues had she been , Like them she had been favour'd by the QUEEN , Whom your high merit , and their own , prefers To all the worthiest beds of England's peers . Thus the great eagle , when heav'n's wars are o'er , And the loud thunder has forgot to roar , Jove's fires laid by , with those of Venus burns , To his forsaken mate and shades returns ; On some proud tree , more sacred than the rest , With curious art he builds his spacious nest ; In the warm sun lies basking all the day , While round their sire the gen'rous eaglets play ; Their sire , well-pleas'd to see the noble brood Fill all the loftiest cedars of the wood .