Passons ainsi notre vie, Sans rêver à ce qui suit; Avec ma chere Silvie[252] Le tems trop vite me fuit. Mais si par un malheur extreme, Je perdois cet objêt charmant; Oui, cette compagnie même Ne me tiendroit un moment. 5. Me livrant à ma tristesse, Toujours plein de mon chagrin, Je n’aurois plus d’allegresse Pour mettre Bathurst[253] en train. Ainsi pour vous tenir en joie, Invoquez toujours les Dieux, Qu’elle vive et qu’elle soit Avec nous toujours heureux. E. (_Vide page 77._) SONG. THE CHARMS OF SYLVIA. BY THE PRINCE OF WALES ON THE PRINCESS. ’Tis not the liquid brightness of those eyes, That swim with pleasure and delight, Nor those heavenly arches which arise O’er each of them to shade their light: ’Tis not that hair which plays with every wind, And loves to wanton round thy face; Now straying round the forehead, now behind Retiring with insidious grace: ’Tis not that lovely range of teeth so white, As new-shorn sheep equal and fair; Nor e’en that gentle smile, the heart’s delight, With which no smile could e’er compare: ’Tis not that chin so round, that neck so fine, Those breasts that swell to meet my love, That easy sloping waist, that form divine, Nor ought below, nor ought above: ’Tis not the living colours over each By nature’s finest pencil wrought, To shame the full-blown rose, and blooming peach, And mock the happy painter’s thought: No[254]--’tis that gentleness of mind, that love So kindly answering my desire; That grace with which you look, and speak, and move, That thus has set my soul on fire. (_Vide page 78._) The elegy alluded to was probably the effusion of some Jacobite royalist. That faction could not forgive the Duke of Cumberland his excesses, or successes, in Scotland; and not content with branding the Parliamentary Government of the House of Brunswick as usurpation, indulged in frequent, unfeeling, and scurrilous personalities on every branch of the reigning family. Here lies Fred, Who was alive, and is dead; Had it been his father, I had much rather: Had it been his brother, Still better than another; Had it been his sister, No one would have missed her; Had it been the whole generation, Still better for the nation; But since ’tis only Fred, Who was alive, and is dead,-- There’s no more to be said. (_Vide page 88._)