chesse en rougit,
Et la princesse en gronde,
Chacun sait que Venus naquit
De l'ecume de l'onde.

En rit-elle moins tous les dieux.
Lui rendre un juste hommage!
Et Paris, le berger fameux,
Lui donner l'avantage
Meme sur la reine des cieux
Et Minerve la sage?

Dans le serail du grand seigneur.
Quelle est la favorite?
C'est la plus belle au gre de coeur
Du maitre qui l'habite.
C'est le seul titre en sa faveur
Et c'est le vrai merite.

Que Grammont tonne contre toi,
La chose est naturelle.
Elle voudrait donner la loi
Et n'est qu' une mortelle;
Il faut, pour plaire au plus grand roi,
Sans orgueil etre belle.*

*From those readers who may understand this chanson in the
original, and look somewhat contemptuously on the following
version, the translator begs to shelter himself under the
well-known observation of Lord Chesterfield, "that
everything suffers by translation, but a a bishop!" Those
to whom such a dilution is necessary will perhaps be
contented with the skim-milk as they cannot get the cream.--TRANS.

Thy beauty, seductress, leads mortals astray, Over hearts, Lise, how
vast and resistless thy sway. Cease, duchess, to blush! cease, princess,
to rave--Venus sprang from the foam of the ocean wave. All the gods
pay their homage at her beauteous shrine, And adore her as potent,
resistless, divine! To her Paris, the shepherd, awarded the prize,
Sought by Juno the regal, and Pallas the wise.

Who rules o'er her lord in the Turkish _serail_, Reigns queen of his
heart, and e'er basks in his smile? 'Tis she, who resplendent, shines
loveliest of all, And beauty holds power in her magic thrall. Then heed
not the clamors that Grammont may raise, How natural her anger! how vain
her dispraise! 'Tis not a mere mortal our monarch can charm, Free from
pride is the beauty that bears off the palm.

This song was to be found in almost every part of France. Altho' the
last couplet was generally suppressed, so evident was its partial tone
towards me, in the midst of it all I could not help being highly amused
with the simplicity evinced by the good people of France, who, in
censuring the king's conduct, found nothing reprehensible but his having
omitted to select his mistress from elevated rank.

The citizens resented this falling off in royalty with as much war