صور الصفحة
النشر الإلكتروني

But now no face divine contentment wears,
'Tis all blank sadness, or continual tears.
See how the force of others' pray’rs I try,
(O pious fraud of amorous charity!)
But why should I on others' prayers depend?
Come thou, my father, brother, husband, friend!
Al, let thy handmaid, sister, daughter, move,
And all those tender names in one, thy love!
The darksome pines that o'er yon rocks reclin'd
Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind,
The wandering streams that shine between the hills,
The grots that echo to the tinkling rills,
Thy dying gales that pant upon the trees,
The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze;
No more these scenes my meditation aid,
Or lull to 'rest the visionary maid :
But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves,
Long-sounding isles and intermingled graves,
Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws
A death-like silence, and a dread repose :
Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene,
Shades every flower, and darkens every green,
Deepens the murmur of the falling floods,
And breathes a browner horror on the woods.

Yet here for ever, ever must I stay ;
Sad proof how well a lover can obey!
Death, only death, can break the lasting chain ;
And here, ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain ;
Here all its frailties, all its flames resign,
And wait till 'tis no sin to mix with thine.

Ah, wretch! believ'd the spouse of God in vain, Confess'd within the slave of love and man. Assist me, Heav'n! but whence arose that pray'r? Sprung it from piety, or from despair?

Ev'n here, where frožen chastity retires,
Love finds an altar for forbidden fires.
I ought to grieve, but cannot wliat I ongut;
I mourn the lover, not lament the fault;
I view my crime, but kindle at the view,
Repent old pleasures, and solicit new;
Now tarn'd to Heaven, I weep my past offence,
Now think of thee, and curse my innocence.
Of all affliction taught a lover yet,
'Tis sure the hardest science to forget !
How shall I lose the sin, yet keep the sense,
And love the offender, yet detest the offence?
How the dear object from the crime remove,
Or how distinguish penitence from love?
Unequal task ! a passion to resign,
For hearts so touch'd, so pierc'd, so lost as mine.
Ere such a soul regains its peaceful state,
How often must it love, how often hate!
How often hope, despair, resent, regret,
Conceal, disdain-đo all things but forget!
But let heaven scize it, all at once 'tis fird;
Not touch’d, bnt rapt; not waken’d, but inspird !
O come! () teach me nature to subdue,
Renounce my love, my life, myself—and you:
Fill my fond heart with God alone, for he
Alone can rival, can succeed to thee.

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot :
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each prayer accepted, and each wish resign'd;
Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
Obedient slumbers that can waké and weep;
Desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n;
Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heav'n;



Grace shines around her with serepest beams,
And whispering angels prompt her golden dreams.
For her the upfading rose of Eden blooms,
And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes ;
For her the spouse prepares the bridal ringi
For ber white virgins hymeneals sing;
To sounds of heavenly harps she dies away,
And melts ir visions of eternal day,

Far other dreams my erring soul employ,
Far other rạptures of upholy joy:
When, at the close of each sad sorrowing day,
Fapcy restores what vengeance snatch'd away,
Then conscience sleeps, apd leaving nature free,
All my loose soul unbounded springs to thee.
Oh curs’d, dear horrors of all-conscious night!
Jlow glowing guilt exalts tbe keen delight!
Provoking demons all restraint remove,
And stir within me every source of love.
I hear thee, view theę, gaze o'er all thy charms,
And round thy phantom glụe my clasping arms.
Į wake:-no more I hear, no more. I view,
The phantom flies me, as unkind as you.
I call aloud ; it bears not what I say:
I stretch my empty arms; it glides away.
To dream once more I close my willing eyes;
Ye soft illusions, dear deceits, arise !
Alas, no more! methinks we wandering go
'Through dreary wastes, and weep each other's woe,
Where round somemouldering tow'r pale ivy creeps,
And low-brow'd rocks hang podding o'er the deeps.
Sndden yon mount, you beckup from the skies;
Clouds interpose, waves roar, and wiods arise.
Į shriek, start up, the same sad prospect find,
And wake to all the griefs I left bebipd.

For thee the fates, severely kind, ordain A cool suspense from pleasure and from pain; Thy life a long dead calm of fix'd repose; No pulse that riots, and no blood that glowsa Still as the sea, ere winds were taught to blow, Or moving spirits bid the waters flow; Soft as the slumbers of a saint forgiv'n, And mild as opening gleams of promis'd heav'n.

Come, Abelard ! for what hast thou to dread? The torch of Venus burns not for the dead. Nature stands check'd; Religion disapproves; Ev'n thou art cold-yet Eloïsa loves. Ah hopeless, lasting fames ! like those that burn To light the dead, and warm the unfruitful urn.

What scenes appear where'er I turn my view? The dear ideas, where I fiy, pursue ; Rise in the grove, before the altar rise, Stain all my soul, and wanton in my eyes, I waste the matin lamp in sighs for thee, Thy image steals between my God and me; Thy voice I seem in every hymn to bear, With every bead I drop too soft a tear. When from the censer clouds of fragrance roll, And swelling organs lift the rising soul, One thonght of thee puts all the pomp to flight, Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight: In seas of fame 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 gathering in my eye, While praying, trembling, in the dust I roll, And dawning grace is opening ou my soul : Come, if thou dar'st, all charming as thou art! Oppose thyself to Heav'n; dispute my heart;

Come, with one glance of those deluding eyes
Blot out each bright idea of the skies ;
Take back that grace,those sorrows, and those tears;
Take back my fruitless penitence and pray’rs;
Snatch me, just mounting, from the bless'd abode;.
Assist 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 resign;
Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine.
Fair eyes, and tempting looks, (which yet I view)
Long lov'd, adord ideas, all adien !
Ograce serene ! O virtue beavenly 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 gnest;
Receive, and wrap me jo eternal rest!

See in her cell sad Eloïsa spread, Prop'd on some tomb, a neighbour of the dead. In each low wind methinks a spirit eals, And more than echoes talk along the walle. Here, as I watch'd the dying lamps around, From yonder shrine I heard a hollow sound : • Come, sister, come ! (it said, or seem'd to say) Thy place here, sad sister, come away; Once, like thyself, I trembled, wept, and pray'd, Love's victim then, though now a sainted maid: But all is calin in this eternal sleep ; Here grief forgets to groan, aed love to weep ; Ev'o superstition loses every fear : For God, not man, absolves our frailties here.'

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