2 Till you descending on our plains,
With foreign force renew my chains:
Where now you rule without control
The mighty sovereign of my soul.
3 Your smiles have more of conquering charms,
Than all your native country arms;
Their troops we can expel with ease,
Who vanquish only when we please.
4 But in your eyes, oh! there's the spell,
Who can see them, and not rebel?
You make us captives by your stay,
Yet kill us if you go away.
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FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 41: This song is a compliment to the Duchess of Portsmouth,
Charles's mistress, on her first coming to England.]
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