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On Blenheim-House.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


17

On Blenheim-House.

Here, glorious Marlbro', for thy Wars receive,
Not as they merit, but as Love can give,
Thy Country's Love, by solemn Acts declar'd,
Proud to acknowlege, hopeless to reward.
Hail! Blenheim's lofty tow'rs, and calm retreat!
Hail! like thy Owner's Soul, retir'd, and great!
Nor shall his hand, disarm'd by peace, refuse
In thy soft shades his softer hours to lose;
To prune the vine, or prop the drooping flow'r,
The hand that rais'd and humbled Kings before.
The Daughters, here, shall glad the Father's Heart,
And grace the Hero's toils with pious art;
While, in each room magnificently wrought
With curious needles, and with happy thought,
Their tender hands his victories display;
A Race as num'rous, and as fair, as they.