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النشر الإلكتروني

ELOISA

то

A B EL A R D.

N thefe deep folitudes and awful cells,
Where heav'nly-penfive contemplation dwells,
And ever-mufing melancholy reigns;
What means this tumult in a Veftal's veins ?
Why rove my thoughts beyond this laft retreat?
Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat?
Yet, yet I love!-From Abelard it came,
And Eloïfa yet muft kifs the name.

Dear fatal name! reft ever unreveal'd,

Nor pass these lips in holy filence feal'd:
Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise,
Where mix'd with God's, his lov'd Idea lies:

O'write it not hand
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Already written wash it out, my tears!

In vain loft Eloïfa weeps and prays,

Her heart ftill dictates, and her hand obeys.

Relentless walls! whofe darkfome round contains Repentant fighs, and voluntary pains:

Ye rugged rocks! which holy knees have worn ;
Ye grots and caverns fhagg'd with horrid thorn!

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Shrines! where their vigils pale-ey'd virgins keep,
And pitying faints, whose statues learn to weep!
Tho' cold like you, unmov'd and filent grown,
I have not yet forgot myself to stone.
All is not Heav'n's while Abelard has part,
Still rebel nature holds out half my heart;
Nor pray'rs nor fafts its stubborn pulse restrain,
Nor tears for ages taught to flow in vain.

Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose,

That well-known name awakens all my woes.
Oh name for ever fad! for ever dear!
Still breath'd in fighs, still usher'd with a tear.
I tremble too, where'er my own I find,
Some dire misfortune follows close behind.

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Line after line my gushing eyes o'erflow,

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Led thro' a fad variety of woe:

Now warm in love, now with'ring in my bloom,
Loft in a convent's folitary gloom!

There stern Religion quench'd'th'unwilling flame,
There dy'd the best of paffions, Love and Fame. 40

Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join

Griefs to thy griefs, and echo fighs to thine.
Nor foes nor fortune take this pow'r away;
And is my Abelard lefs kind than they?

Tears ftill are mine, and those I need not fpare, 45
Love but demands what else were shed in pray'r;

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No happier task these faded eyes pursue ;
To read and weep is all they now can do.
Then share thy pain, allow that said relief;
Ah, more than share it, give me all thy grief.
Heav'n first taught letters for fome wretch's aid,
Some banish'd lover, or fome captive maid;
They live, they speak, they breathe what love inspires,
Warm from the foul, and faithful to its fires,
The virgin's wifh without her fears impart,

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Excufe the blush, and pour out all the heart,

Speed the foft intercourfe from foul to foul,

And waft a figh from Indus to the Pole.

Thou know'ft how guiltless first I met thy flame, When Love approach'd me under Friendship's name ;

My fancy form'd thee of angelic kind,

Some emanation of th'all-beauteous Mind.

Thofe fmiling eyes, attemp'ring ev'ry ray,

Shone fweetly lambent with celestial day.

61

Guiltless I gaz'd; heav'n liften'd while you fung; 65
And truths divine came mended from that tongue.
From lips like those what precept fail'd to move?
Too foon they taught me 'twas no fin to love :
Back thro' the paths of pleasing sense I ran,
Nor wifh'd an Angel whom I lov'd a Man.

NOTES.

70

VER. 66. And truths divine etc.] He was her Preceptor

in Philofophy and Divinity. P.

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Dim and remote the joys of faints I fee;

Nor envy them that heav'n I lofe for thee.

How oft, when prefs'd to marriage, have I faid,

‹ Curse on all laws but those which Love has made ? Love, free as air, at fight of human ties,

Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.

Let wealth, let honour, wait the wedded dame,

August her deed, and facred be her fame;

Before true paffion all thofe views remove,

75

Fame, wealth, and honour! what are you to Love?
The jealous God, when we profane his fires,
Thofe reftlefs paffions in revenge inspires,
And bids them make mistaken mortals groan,
Who feek in love for aught but love alone.
Should at my feet the world's great master fall,
Himself, his throne, his world, I'd fcorn 'em all :
Not Cæfar's emprefs would I deign to prove ;
No, make me mistress to the man I love;
If there be yet another name more free,

More fond than mistress, make me that to thee!
Oh! happy state! when fouls each other draw,
When love is liberty, and nature, law:

VER. 75.

IMITATIONS.

Love will not be confin'd by Maisterie:
When Maisterie comes, the Lord of Love anof
Flutters his wings, and forthwith is he gone.

Chaucer. P.

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All then is full, poffeffing, and poffeft,

No craving void left aking in the breaft:

Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part, ・
And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart.
This fure is blifs (if bliss on earth there be)
And once the lot of Abelard and me.

Alas how chang'd! what sudden horrors rise !
A naked Lover bound and bleeding lies!
Where, where was Eloïfe? her voice, her hand,
Her ponyard had oppos'd the dire command.
Barbarian, ftay! that bloody ftroke restrain;
The crime was common, common be the pain.
I can no more, by shame, by rage fupprefs'd,
Let tears, and burning blushes speak the reft.

Canft thou forget that fad, that folemn day,
When victims at yon altar's foot we lay?
Canft thou forget what tears that moment fell,
When, warm in youth, I bade the world farewell?
As with cold lips I kifs'd the facred veil,

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The shrines all trembled, and the lamps grew pale:
Heav'n fcarce believ'd the Conquest it survey'd,
And Saints with wonder heard the vows I made.
Yet then, to thofe dread altars as I drew,
Not on the Crofs my eyes were fix'd, but you:
Not grace, or zeal, love only was my call,
And if I lofe thy love, I lose my all.

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