Sonnet XXVII.

Apollo, s' ancor vive il bel desio.     HE COMPARES HER TO A LAUREL, WHICH HE SUPPLICATES APOLLO TO DEFEND.         O Phoebus, if that fond desire remains,     Which fired thy breast near the Thessalian wave;     If those bright tresses, which such pleasure gave,     Through lapse of years thy memory not disdains;     From sluggish frosts, from rude inclement rains.     Which last the while thy beams our region leave,     That honour'd sacred tree from peril save,     Whose name of dear accordance waked our pains!     And, by that amorous hope which soothed thy care,     What time expectant thou wert doom'd to sigh     Dispel those vapours which disturb our sky!     So shall we both behold our favorite fair     With wonder, seated on the grassy mead,     And forming with her arms herself a shade.     NOTT.         If live the fair desire, Apollo, yet     Which fired thy spirit once on Peneus' shore,     And if the bright hair loved so well of yore     In lapse of years thou dost not now forget,     From the long frost, from seasons rude and keen,     Which last while hides itself thy kindling brow,     Defend this consecrate and honour'd bough,     Which snared thee erst, whose slave I since have been.     And, by the virtue of the love so dear     Which soothed, sustain'd thee in that early strife,     Our air from raw and lowering vapours clear:     So shall we see our lady, to new life     Restored, her seat upon the greensward take,     Where her own graceful arms a sweet shade o'er her make.     MACGREGOR.