Amor Fra L' Orbe Una Leggiadra Rete. He Compares Himself To A Bird Caught In A Net. Love 'Mid The Grass Beneath A Laurel Green-- The Plant Divine Which Long My Flame Has Fed, Whose Shade For Me Less Bright Than Sad Is Seen-- A Cunning Net Of Gold And Pearls Had Spread: Its Bait The Seed He Sows And Reaps, I Ween Bitter And Sweet, Which I Desire, Yet Dread: Gentle And Soft His Call, As Ne'er Has Been Since First On Adam'S Eyes The Day Was Shed: And The Bright Light Which Disenthrones The Sun Was Flashing Round, And In Her Hand, More Fair Than Snow Or Ivory, Was The Master Rope. So Fell I In The Snare; Their Slave So Won Her Speech Angelical And Winning Air, Pleasure, And Fond Desire, And Sanguine Hope. Macgregor.