« السابقةمتابعة »
Thy voice I seem in every hymn to hear,
With ev'ry bead I drop too soft a tear.
When from the censer clouds of fragrance roll,
And swelling organs lift the rising soul;
One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight,
Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my fight :
In seas of flame my plunging soul is drown'd,
While altars blaze, and angels tremble round.
While prostrate here in humble grief I lie,
Kind, virtuous drops just gath'ring in my eye,
While praying, trembling, in the dust I roll,
And dawning grace is opening on my soul.
Come, if thou dar'st, all charming as thou art !
Oppose thy self to heav'n; dispute my heart;
Come, with one glance of those deluding eyes,
Blot out each bright idea of the fkies,
Take back that grace, those forrows, and those tears,
Take back my fruitless penitence and pray’rs,
Snatch me, just mounting, from the blest abode,
Aflift the fiends, and tear me from my God!
No, fly me, fly me! far as pole from pole; Rise Alps between us ! and whole oceans roll! Ah come not, write not, think not once of me, , Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee.
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 !
Ograce serene! 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-guest;
Receive, and wrap me in eternal reft!
See in her cell fad Eloisa spread,
Propt in some 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 say)
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 sainted maid :
But all is calm in this eternal sleep;
Here ġrief forgets to groan, and love to weep)
Ev'n superstition loses ev'ry feas
For God, net-man, absoives our frarities here.
I-come ye ghosts! prepare your roseate bow'rs;
Celestial palms, and ever blooming flow'rs.
Thither, where finners may have reft I go;
Where flames refin'd in breasts seraphic glow:
Thou, Abelard! the last fad office pay,
And smooth my passage to the realms of day:
See my lips tremble, and my eye-balls roll,
Suck my last breath, and catch the flying foul !
Ahao--in facred vestments may'ft thou stands
The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand,
Present the cross before my lifted eye,
Teach me at once, and learn of me to die.
Ah then ! thy once-lov'd Eloisa see !
It will be then no crime to gaze-on me.“
See from my cheek the transient roses fly!'
See the last fparkle languish in my eye!
Till ev'ry motion, pulse, and breath be o'er ;
And ey'n my Abelard be loy'd no more.
O death all-eloquent ! you only prove
What dust we doat on, when 'tis man we love.
Then too, when fate shall thy fair frame destroy,
(That cause of all my guilt, and all my joy)
In trance extatic may thy pangs be drown'd,
Bright clouds descend, and angels watch thee rounde
From opening skies may streaming glories shine,
And saints embrace thee with a love like mine.
May one * kind grave unite each hapless naine,
And graft my love immortal on thy fame.
Then, ages hence, when all my woes are o'er,
When this rebellious heart shall beat no more,
If ever chance two wandring lovers brings
To Paraclete's white walls, and filver springs,
O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads,
And drink the falling tears each other sheds,
Then fadly fay, with mutual pity mov'd,
Oh may we never love as these have lov'd!.
From the full quire when loud Hosanna's risë,
And swell the pomp of dreadful facrifice,
Amid that scene, if some relenting eye
Glance on the stone where our cold reliques lie,
Devotion's self shall steal a thought from heav'n,
One human tear shall drop, and be forgiv'n.
And sure if fate some future bard shall join
In fad fimilitude of griefs to mine,
Condemn'dwhole years in absence to deplore;
And image charms he must behold no more,
* Abelard and Eloisa were inserrid in the same grave, or in monuments adjoining, in the monatory of Paraclete: He died in the gear 1142, de in 1363.
Such if there be, who loves fo long, so well;
Let him our fad, our tender story tell;
The well-fung woes shall footh my pensive ghost ;.
He best can paint 'em, who lhall feel 'em inofte