Enchant us alone by the power of thy spell!
And is there no charm in thine own native earth?
Does no talisman rest in the place of thy birth?
Are the daughters of Albion less worthy thy care,
Less soft than Zuleika, less bright than Gulnare?
Are her sons less renowned, or her warriors less brave,
Than the slaves of a Prince who himself is a slave?
Then strike thy wild lyre, let it swell with the strain,
Let the mighty in arms live and conquer again;
Their past deeds of valour thy lays shall rehearse,