一个美丽的孩子的脸，洋溢着欢笑和欢乐，欢乐，温柔，狂野，我的心为你而沉重!青春的美丽脸庞，像一只雄鹰，准备飞向忠于真理的故土，飞向北方的群山和声音:美丽的脸庞，勇敢而骄傲，看哪!你的命运，像一朵云，落在你优雅的额上!残酷而愤怒的脸，可恨而酒醉，你的快乐、优雅、美丽和欢乐哪里去了?啊，我的王子，一切都好。你曾是诸神的挚爱吗?倒在凯波奇倒下的地方，耳边响起了响亮的战笛!为了你的父亲，你的信仰，你的王冠，你牺牲了，徒劳地战斗!比你那大理石堆上的女人为你哭泣，更能梦见你那古老的小岛，大海无尽的哀歌!但命运却不这样认为; Far thou sleepest from home, From the tears of the Northern skies, In the secular dust of Rome. A city of death and the dead, But thither a pilgrim came, Wearing on weary head The crowns of years and fame: Little the Lucrine lake Or Tivoli said to him, Scarce did the memories wake Of the far-off years and dim, For he stood by Avernus? shore. But he dreamed of a Northern glen, And he murmured, over and o?er, ?For Charlie and his men:? And his feet, to death that went, Crept forth to St. Peter?s shrine, And the latest Minstrel bent O?er the last of the Stuart line.