Se Al Principio Risponde Il Fine E 'L Mezzo. If His Passion Still Increase, He Must Soon Die. If, Of This Fourteenth Year Wherein I Sigh, The End And Middle With Its Opening Vie, Nor Air Nor Shade Can Give Me Now Release, I Feel Mine Ardent Passion So Increase: For Love, With Whom My Thought No Medium Knows, Beneath Whose Yoke I Never Find Repose, So Rules Me Through These Eyes, On Mine Own Ill Too Often Turn'D, But Half Remains To Kill. Thus, Day By Day, I Feel Me Sink Apace, And Yet So Secretly None Else May Trace, Save She Whose Glances My Fond Bosom Tear. Scarcely Till Now This Load Of Life I Bear Nor Know How Long With Me Will Be Her Stay, For Death Draws Near, And Hastens Life Away. Macgregor.