Thy voice I feem in every hymn to hear,
With ev'ry bead I drop too soft a tear.
When from the cenfer clouds of fragrance roll,
And fwelling organs lift the rifing foul;
One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight,
Priefts, tapers, temples, fwim before my fight:
In feas of flame my plunging foul is drown'd,
While altars blaze, and angels tremble round.
While proftrate here in humble grief I lie,
Kind, virtuous drops juft gath'ring in my eye,
While praying, trembling, in the duft I roll,
And dawning grace is opening on my foul.
Come, if thou dar'ft, all charming as thou art?
Oppose thy felf to heav'n; difpute my heart;
Come, with one glance of thofe deluding eyes,
Blot out each bright idea of the skies,

Take back that grace, thofe forrows, and thofe tears,
Take back my fruitlefs penitence and pray'rs,
Snatch me, juft mounting, from the bleft abode,
Affift the fiends, and tear me from my God!
No, fly me, fly me! far as pole from pole;

Rife Alps between us! and whole oceans roll!
Ah come not, write not, think not once of me,
Nor fhare one pang of all I felt for thee.
H 2

Thy

Thy oaths I quit, thy memory refign,
Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine.
Fair eyes, and tempting looks (which yet I view!)
Long lov'd, ador'd ideas! all adieu!

O grace ferene! oh virtue heav'nly fair;
Divine oblivion of low-thoughted care!
Fresh blooming hope, gay daughter of the sky!
And faith, our early immortality!

Enter each mild, each amicable gueft;
Receive,, and wrap me in eternal rest!
See in her cell fad Eloisa spread,

Propt in fome tomb, a neighbour of the dead!
In each low wind methinks a spirit calls,
And more than echoes talk along the walls.
Here, as I watch'd the dying lamps around,
From yonder fhrine I heard a hollow found.
Come, fifter come! (it faid, or feem'd to fay)
Thy place is here, fad fifter come away!
Once like thy felf, I trembled, wept, and pray'd,
Love's victim then, tho' now a fainted maid:
But all is calm in this eternal fleep;

Here grief forgets to groan, and love to weep)
Ev'n fuperftition lofes ev'ry fear

For God, not man, abfoives our franities here.

Į come,

I come ye ghofts! prepare your rofeate bow'rs,
Celestial palms, and ever blooming flow'rs.
Thither, where finners may have reft I go;
Where flames refin'd in breasts feraphic glow.
Thou, Abelard! the laft fad office pay,
And smooth my paffage to the realms of day:
See my lips tremble, and my eye-balls roll,
Suck my last breath, and catch the flying foul!
Ahno-in facred vestments may'ft thou stand,
The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand,
Prefent the cross before my lifted eye,
Teach me at once, and learn of me to die.
Ah then thy once-lov'd Eloifa fee!

It will be then no crime to gaze on me.~
See from my cheek the tranfient roses fly!'
See the laft fparkle languish in my eye!
Till ev'ry motion, pulfe, and breath be o'er;
And evin my Abelard be lov'd no more.
O death all-eloquent! you only prove

What duft we doat on, when 'tis man we love.
Then too, when fate fhall thy fair frame deftroy,
(That cause of all my guilt, and all my joy)
In trance extatic may thy pangs be drown'd,
Bright clouds defcend, and angels watch thee round
H 3

From

From opening skies may ftreaming glories fhine,
And faints embrace thee with a love like mine.

May one * kind grave unite each hapless name,
And graft my love immortal on thy fame.
Then, ages hence, when all my woes are o'er,
When this rebellious heart fhall beat no more,
If ever chance two wandring lovers brings
To Paraclete's white walls, and filver fprings,
O'er the pale marble fhall they join their heads,
And drink the falling tears each other fheds,
Then fadly fay, with mutual pity mov'd,
Oh may we never love as thefe have lov'd!
From the full quire when loud Hofanna's rife,
And fwell the pomp of dreadful facrifice,
Amid that scene, if fome relenting eye
Glance on the ftone where our cold reliques lie,
Devotion's felf shall steal a thought from heav'n,
One human tear fhall drop, and be forgiv❜n.
And sure if fate fome future bard shall join
In fad fimilitude of griefs to mine,
Condemn'dwhole years in abfence to deplore,
And image charms he must behold no more,

་

* Abelard and Eloifa were interr'd in the same grave, or in monuments adjoining, in the monastery of Paraclete: He died in the year 1142, he in 1163.

Such

Such if there be, who loves fo long, fo well;

Let him our fad, our tender ftory tell;

The well-fung woes fhall footh my penfive ghoft;. He best can paint 'em, who fhall feel 'em moft.