The Indian Queen, Z. 630 : They tell us that your mighty powers

They tell us that your mighty powers above
Make perfect your joys and your blessings by Love.
Ah! Why do you suffer the blessing that's there
To give a poor lover such sad torments here?

Yet though for my passion such grief I endure,
My love shall like yours still be constant and pure.
To suffer for him gives an ease to my pains
There's joy in my grief and there's freedom in chains;

If I were divine he could love me no more
And I in return my adorer adore
O let his dear life the, kind Gods, be your care
For I in your blessings have no other share.



Credits
Writer(s): Henry Purcell, Peter Kenneth Holman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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