Pi' Volte Amor M' Avea Gi' Detto: Scrivi. He Writes What Love Bids Him. White--To My Heart Love Oftentimes Had Said-- Write What Thou Seest In Letters Large Of Gold, That Livid Are My Votaries To Behold, And In A Moment Made Alive And Dead. Once In Thy Heart My Sovran Influence Spread A Public Precedent To Lovers Told; Though Other Duties Drew Thee From My Fold, I Soon Reclaim'D Thee As Thy Footsteps Fled. And If The Bright Eyes Which I SHow'd Thee First, If The Fair Face Where Most I Loved To Stay, Thy Young Heart'S Icy Hardness When I Burst, Restore To Me The Bow Which All Obey, Then May Thy Cheek, Which Now So Smooth Appears, Be Channell'D With My Daily Drink Of Tears. Macgregor.