When Henry III. is declared to be dead, his son thus speaks of him in terms applicable, by the poet’s intention, to George II.:—
The gentlest of mankind, the most abus’d!
Of gracious nature, a fit soil for virtues,
Till there his creatures sow’d their flatt’ring lies,
And made him—No! not all their cursed arts
Could ever make him insolent or cruel.
O my deluded father! Little joy
Had’st thou in life;—led from thy real good,
And genuine glory, from thy people’s love,—
That noblest aim of Kings,—by smiling traitors!