Almo Sol, Quella Fronde Ch' Io Sola Amo. To The Sun, Whose Setting Hid Laura'S Dwelling From His View. O Blessed Sun! That Sole Sweet Leaf I Love, First Loved By Thee, In Its Fair Seat, Alone, Bloometh Without A Peer, Since From Above To Adam First Our Shining Ill Was Shown. Pause We To Look On Her! Although To Stay Thy Course I Pray Thee, Yet Thy Beams Retire; Their Shades The Mountains Fling, And Parting Day Parts Me From All I Most On Earth Desire. The Shadows From Yon Gentle Heights That Fall, Where Sparkles My Sweet Fire, Where Brightly Grew That Stately Laurel From A Sucker Small, Increasing, As I Speak, Hide From My View The Beauteous Landscape And The Bless'D Scene, Where Dwells My True Heart With Its Only Queen. Macgregor.