Sonnet CCXXI.

Cercato ho sempre solitaria vita.     THINKING ALWAYS OF LAURA, IT PAINS HIM TO REMEMBER WHERE SHE IS LEFT.         Still have I sought a life of solitude;     The streams, the fields, the forests know my mind;     That I might 'scape the sordid and the blind,     Who paths forsake trod by the wise and good:     Fain would I leave, were mine own will pursued,     These Tuscan haunts, and these soft skies behind,     Sorga's thick-wooded hills again to find;     And sing and weep in concert with its flood.     But Fortune, ever my sore enemy,     Compels my steps, where I with sorrow see     Cast my fair treasure in a worthless soil:     Yet less a foe she justly deigns to prove,     For once, to me, to Laura, and to love;     Favouring my song, my passion, with her smile.     NOTT.         Still have I sought a life of solitude--     This know the rivers, and each wood and plain--     That I might 'scape the blind and sordid train     Who from the path have flown of peace and good:     Could I my wish obtain, how vainly would     This cloudless climate woo me to remain;     Sorga's embowering woods I'd seek again,     And sing, weep, wander, by its friendly flood.     But, ah! my fortune, hostile still to me,     Compels me where I must, indignant, find     Amid the mire my fairest treasure thrown:     Yet to my hand, not all unworthy, she     Now proves herself, at least for once, more kind,     Since--but alone to Love and Laura be it known.     MACGREGOR.