HE EXCUSES HIMSELF FOR HAVING SO LONG DELAYED TO VISIT HER
So much I fear to encounter her bright eye.
Alway in which my d**h and Love reside,
That, as a child the rod, its glance I fly,
Though long the time has been since first I tried;
And ever since, so wearisome or high,
No place has been where strong will has not hied,
Her shunning, at whose sight my senses die,
And, cold as marble, I am laid aside:
Wherefore if I return to see you late,
Sure 'tis no fault, unworthy of excuse,
That from my d**h awhile I held aloof:
At all to turn to what men shun, their fate,
And from such fear my hara**'d heart to loose,
Of its true faith are ample pledge and proof.
Macgregor.