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.