Then back to England will I steare,
To see where I can find her.

And haveing Ginnee once againe,
If sheed doe her indeavour,
The world shall never make us twaine--
Weel live and dye together.

* * * * *

SONG BY KING CHARLES II.

_On the Duchess of Portsmouth leaving England._

_(For the Mirror.)_

Bright was the morning, cool the air,
Serene was all the skies;
When on the waves I left my dear,
The center of my joys;
Heav'n and nature smiling were.
And nothing sad but I.

Each rosy field their odours spread,
All fragrant was the shore;
Each river God rose from his bed,
And sighing own'd her pow'r;
Curling the waves they deck'd their heads,
As proud of what they bore.