THOUGH SO LONG LOVE'S FAITHFUL SERVANT, HIS ONLY REWARD HAS BEEN TEARS Happy in visions, and content to pine, Shadows to clasp, to chase the summer gale, On shoreless and unfathom'd sea to sail, To build on sand, and in the air design, The sun to gaze on till these eyes of mine Abash'd before his noonday splendour fail, To chase adown some soft and sloping vale, The wingèd stag with maim'd and heavy kine; Weary and blind, save my own harm to all, Which day and night I seek with throbbing heart, On Love, on Laura, and on d**h I call. Thus twenty years of long and cruel smart, In tears and sighs I've pa**'d, because I took Under ill stars, alas! both bait and hook. Macgregor.