IN HER PRESENCE HE CAN NEITHER SPEAK, WEEP, NOR SIGH Although from falsehood I did thee restrain With all my power, and paid thee honour due, Ungrateful tongue; yet never did accrue Honour from thee, but shame, and fierce disdain: Most art thou cold, when most I want the strain Thy aid should lend while I for pity sue; And all thy utterance is imperfect too, When thou dost speak, and as the dreamer's vain. Ye too, sad tears, throughout each lingering night Upon me wait, when I alone would stay; But, needed by my peace, you take your flight: And, all so prompt anguish and grief t' impart, Ye sighs, then slow, and broken breathe your way: My looks alone truly reveal my heart. Nott. With all my power, lest falsehood should invade, I guarded thee and still thy honour sought, Ungrateful tongue! who honour ne'er hast brought, But still my care with rage and shame repaid: For, though to me most requisite, thine aid, When mercy I would ask, availeth nought, Still cold and mute, and e'en to words if wrought They seem as sounds in sleep by dreamers made. And ye, sad tears, o' nights, when I would fain Be left alone, my sure companions, flow, But, summon'd for my peace, ye soon depart: Ye too, mine anguish'd sighs, so prompt to pain, Then breathe before her brokenly and slow, And my face only speaks my suffering heart. Macgregor.