Ah, happiest spot of earth! in this sweet place
    Love first beheld my condescending fair
    Retard her steps, to smile with courteous grace
    On me, and smiling glad the ambient air. 
    The deep-cut image, wrought with skilful care,
    Time shall from hardest adamant efface,
    Ere from my mind that smile it shall erase,
    Dear to my soul! which memory planted there. 
    Oft as I view thee, heart-enchanting soil! 
    With amorous awe I’ll seek—­delightful toil! 
    Where yet some traces of her footsteps lie. 
    And if fond Love still warms her generous breast,
    Whene’er you see her, gentle friend! request
    The tender tribute of a tear—­a sigh.

    ANON. 1777.

      Most fortunate and fair of spots terrene! 
    Where Love I saw her forward footstep stay,
    And turn on me her bright eyes’ heavenly ray,
    Which round them make the atmosphere serene. 
    A solid form of adamant, I ween,
    Would sooner shrink in lapse of time away,
    Than from my mind that sweet salute decay,
    Dear to my heart, in memory ever green. 
    And oft as I return to view this spot,
    In its fair scenes I’ll fondly stoop to seek
    Where yet the traces of her light foot lie. 
    But if in valorous heart Love sleepeth not,
    Whene’er you meet her, friend, for me bespeak
    Some passing tears, perchance one pitying sigh.

    MACGREGOR.

SONNET LXXXVI.

Lasso! quante fiate Amor m’ assale.

WHEN LOVE DISTURBS HIM, HE CALMS HIMSELF BY THINKING OF THE EYES AND WORDS OF LAURA.

      Alas! how ceaselessly is urged Love’s claim,
    By day, by night, a thousand times I turn
    Where best I may behold the dear lights burn
    Which have immortalized my bosom’s flame. 
    Thus grow I calm, and to such state am brought,
    At noon, at break of day, at vesper-bell,
    I find them in my mind so tranquil dwell,
    I neither think nor care beside for aught. 
    The balmy air, which, from her angel mien,
    Moves ever with her winning words and wise,
    Makes wheresoe’er she breathes a sweet serene
    As ’twere a gentle spirit from the skies,
    Still in these scenes some comfort brings to me,
    Nor elsewhere breathes my harass’d heart so free.

    MACGREGOR.

SONNET LXXXVII.

Perseguendomi Amor al luogo usato.

HE IS BEWILDERED AT THE UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL OF LAURA.

      As Love his arts in haunts familiar tried,
    Watchful as one expecting war is found,
    Who all foresees and guards the passes round,
    I in the armour of old thoughts relied: 
    Turning, I saw a shadow at my side
    Cast by the sun, whose outline