Poem by Mary Wortley Montagu

John Duke of Marlborough

When the proud Frenchman's strong rapacious hand
Spread o'er Europe ruin and command,
Our sinking temples and expiring law
With trembling dread the rolling tempest saw;
Destin'd a province to insulting Gaul,
This genius rose, and stopp'd the ponderous fall.
His temperate valour form'd no giddy scheme,
No victory ras'd him to a rage of fame;
The happy temper of his even mind
No danger e'er could shock, or conquest blind.
Fashion'd alike by Nature and by Art,
To please, engage, and int'rest ev'ry heart.
In public life by all who saw approv'd,
In private hours by all who knew him lov'd.

1. The Fourth Ode of the First Book of Horace Imitated
2. Epigram, 1734
3. Town Eclogues: Wednesday; the Tête à Tête
4. Addressed to ------, 1736
5. Ballad, on a Late Occurrence

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