HE LONGS TO RETURN TO THE CAPTIVITY OF LOVE Fleeing the prison which had long detain'd, Where Love dealt with me as to him seem'd well, Ladies, the time were long indeed to tell, How much my heart its new-found freedom pain'd. I felt within I could not, so bereaved, Live e'en a day: and, midway, on my eyes That traitor rose in so complete disguise, A wiser than myself had been deceived: Whence oft I've said, deep sighing for the past, Alas! the yoke and chains of old to me Were sweeter far than thus released to be. Me wretched! but to learn mine ill at last; With what sore trial must I now forget Errors that round my path myself have set. Macgregor.