Place me where angry Titan burns the Moor,
    And thirsty Afric fiery monsters brings,
    Or where the new-born phoenix spreads her wings,
    And troops of wond’ring birds her flight adore: 
    Place me by Gange, or Ind’s empamper’d shore,
    Where smiling heavens on earth cause double springs: 
    Place me where Neptune’s quire of Syrens sings,
    Or where, made hoarse through cold, he leaves to roar: 
    Me place where Fortune doth her darlings crown,
    A wonder or a spark in Envy’s eye,
    Or late outrageous fates upon me frown,
    And pity wailing, see disaster’d me. 
    Affection’s print my mind so deep doth prove,
    I may forget myself, but not my love.

    DRUMMOND.

SONNET CXIV.

O d’ ardente virtute ornata e calda.

HE CELEBRATES LAURA’S BEAUTY AND VIRTUE.

      O mind, by ardent virtue graced and warm’d. 
    To whom my pen so oft pours forth my heart;
    Mansion of noble probity, who art
    A tower of strength ’gainst all assault full arm’d. 
    O rose effulgent, in whose foldings, charm’d,
    We view with fresh carnation snow take part! 
    O pleasure whence my wing’d ideas start
    To that bless’d vision which no eye, unharm’d,
    Created, may approach—­thy name, if rhyme
    Could bear to Bactra and to Thule’s coast,
    Nile, Tanais, and Calpe should resound,
    And dread Olympus.—­But a narrower bound
    Confines my flight:  and thee, our native clime
    Between the Alps and Apennine must boast.

    CAPEL LOFFT.

      With glowing virtue graced, of warm heart known,
    Sweet Spirit! for whom so many a page I trace,
    Tower in high worth which foundest well thy base! 
    Centre of honour, perfect, and alone! 
    O blushes! on fresh snow like roses thrown,
    Wherein I read myself and mend apace;
    O pleasures! lifting me to that fair face
    Brightest of all on which the sun e’er shone. 
    Oh! if so far its sound may reach, your name
    On my fond verse shall travel West and East,
    From southern Nile to Thule’s utmost bound. 
    But such full audience since I may not claim,
    It shall be heard in that fair land at least
    Which Apennine divides, which Alps and seas surround.

    MACGREGOR.

SONNET CXV.

Quando ’l voler, che con duo sproni ardenti.

HER LOOKS BOTH COMFORT AND CHECK HIM.

      When, with two ardent spurs and a hard rein,
    Passion, my daily life who rules and leads,
    From time to time the usual law exceeds
    That calm, at least in part, my spirits may gain,
    It findeth her who, on my forehead plain,
    The dread and daring of my deep heart reads,