If you return-ah why thefe long delays?
Poor Sappho dies while carelefs Phaon stays.
O launch thy bark, nor fear the watery plain;
Venus for thee fhall fmooth her native main.
O launch thy bark, fecure of profperous gales;
Cupid for thee fhall fpread the fwelling fails.
If you will fly(yet ah! what cause can be,
Too cruel youth, that you fhould fly from me?)
If not from Phaon I muft hope for cafe, 256
Ah let me feek it from the raging feas:
To raging feas unpity'd I'll remove,
And either cease to live, or cease to love!

ELOISA

ΤΟ

ABELARD.

6

N thefe deep folitudes and awful cells, Where heavenly-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 pafs thefe lips in holy filence feal'd; Hide it, my heart, within that close disguife, Where, mix'd with God's, his lov'd idea lies: O write it not, my hand-the name appears 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:

15

Ye rugged rocks! which holy knees have worn; Ye grots and caverns fhagg'd with horrid thorn! Shrines! where their vigils pale-eyed virgins keep;

And pitying faints, whofe ftatues learn to weep! Though cold like you, unmov'd and filent grown, I have not yet forgot myfelf to flone.

15

All is not Heaven's while Abelard has part,
Still rebel Nature holds out half my heart;
Nor prayers nor fafts its ftubborn pulfe reftrain,
Nor tears for ages taught to flow in vain.

Soon as thy letters trembling I unclofe,
That well-known name awakens all my woes. 30
Oh name for ever fad! for ever dear!
Still breath'd in fighs, ftill uther'd with a tear.
I tremble too, where'er my own I find,
Some dire misfortune follows clofe behind.
Line after line my gufhing eyes o'erflow,
Led through a fad variety of woe:
Now warm in love, now withering in my bloom,
Loft in a convent's folitary gloom!
There ftern Religion quench'd th'unwilling flame,
There dy'd the beft of paffions, Love and Fame.

Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join Griefs to thy griefs, and echo fighs to thine.

35

Nor foes nor fortune take this power away;
And is my Abelard less kind than they?
Tears ftill are mine, and thofe I need not fpare,
Love but demands what elfe were thed in prayer;
No happier task these faded eyes pursue';
To read and weep is all they now can do.

Then fhare thy pain, allow that fad relief; Ah, more than fhare it, give me all thy grief. 50 Heaven first taught letters for fome wretch's aid, Some banish'd lover, or some captive maid; They live, they fpeak, they breathe what love infpires,

Warm to the foul, and faithful to its fires,
The virgin's wish without her fears impart, 55
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 guiltlefs first I met thy flame When Love approach'd me under Friendship's

name;

My fancy form'd thee of angelic kind,
Some emaвation of th' All-beauteous Mind.
Thofe fmiling eyes, attempering every ray,
Shone fweetly lambent with celestial day.
Guiltless I gaz'd; heaven listen'd while you fungs
And truths divine came inended from that tongue
From lips like thofe what precept fail'd to move?
Too foon they taught me 'twas no fin to love:
Back through the paths of pleafing sense I ran,
Nor with'd an Angel whom I lov❜d a Man.
Dim and remote the joys of faints I fee,
Nor envy them that heaven I lofe for thee.

70

How oft, when prefs'd to marriage have I faid Curfe on all laws but those which love has made! Love, free as air, at fight of human ties, 75 Spreads his light wings and in a moment fies. Let wealth, let honour wait the wedded dame, Auguft her deed, and facred be her fanie; Before true paffion all thofe views remove'; Fame, wealth, and honour!, what are you to Love? The jealous God, when we prophane his fires, Thofe reftlefs paffions in revenge infpires, And bids them make mistaken mortals groan, Who feek in love for aught but love alone. Should at my feet the world's great mafter fall, Himfelf, his throne, his world, I'd fcorn them all:

Not Cæfar's emprefs would I deign to prove; No, make me miftrefs to the man I love.

If there be yet another name more free, More fond than mistress, make me that to thee; go

Oh! happy ftate! when fouls each other draw,
When love is liberty, and nature law :
All then is full, poffeffing and poffefs'd,
No craving void left aching in the breaft:
Ev'n thought meets thought, e're from the lips it

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 fhame by rage fupprefs'd, 105
Let tears and burning blushes speak the rest.
Canft thou forget that fad, that folemn day,
When victims at yon altar's foot we lay?
Canit thou forget what tears that moment fell,
When, warin in youth, I bade the world farewell?
As with cold lips I kifs'd the facred veil,
The thrines all trembled, and the lamps grew pale:
Heaven fcarce believ'd the Conqueft it furvey'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 lofe my all.

+

115

Come! with thy looks, thy words, relieve my

Here bribe the rage of ill-requited Heaven;
But fuch plain roofs as Piety could raise,
And only vocal with the Maker's praife.
In thefe lone walls (their days eternal bound)
Thefe mofs-grown domes with fpiry turrets
crown'd,

145

150

But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves,
Long-founding aifles, and intermingled graves,
Black Melancholy fits, and round her throws 165
A death-like filence, and a dread repofe;
Her gloomy prefence faddens 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. 170
Yet here for ever, ever muft Ifay;
Sad proof how well a lover can obey!
Death, only death, can break the lafting chain;
And here, ev'n then, fhall my cold dust remain;
Here all its frailties, all its flames refign,
175
And wait till 'tis no fin to mix with thine.
Ah, wretch! believ'd the fpoufe of God in vain,
Confefs'd within the flave of love and man.
Affift me, Heaven! but whence arofe that prayer?
Sprung it from piety, or from despair?
Ev'n here, where frozen chastity retires,
Love finds an altar for forbidden fires.
I ought to grieve, but cannot what I ought;
I mourn the lover, not lament the fault;
I view my crime, but kindle at the view,
Repent old pleasures, and folicit new ;
Now turn'd to heaven, I weep my paft offence,
Now think of thee, and curfe my innocence.
Of all affliction taught a lover yet,.
'Tis fure the hardeft fcience to forget!
How fhall I lofe the fin, yet keep the fenfe,
And love th' offender, yet deteft th' offence?
How the dear object from the crime remove,
Or how diftinguifh penitence from love?
Unequal task! a paffion to refign,

The

hills,

grots that echo to the tinkling rills,

The dying gales that pant upon the trees,
The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze;
No more thefe fcenes my meditation aid,
Or lull to reft the vifionary maid.

180.

186

190

195

For hearts fo touch'd, fo pierc'd, fo loft as mine!
Ere fuch a foul regains its peaceful state,
How often-muft it love how often hate!
How often hope, defpair, refent, regret,'
Conceal, difdain,-do all things but forget! 200
But let heaven feize it, all at once 'tis fir'd:
Not touch'd, but rapt; not waken'd, but infpir'd!
Oh come, oh teach me nature to fubdue,
Renounce my love, my life, myself-and you.
Fill my fond heart with God alone, for he
Alone can rival, can fucceed to thee.

205

O curft, dear horrors of all-confcious night!
How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight!
Provoking Demons all restraint remove,
And ftir within me every fource of love.

230

I hear thee, view thee, gaze o'er all thy charms,
And round thy phantom glue my clasping arms.
I wake :-no more I hear, no more I view, 235
The phantom flies me, as unkind as you.
I call aloud; it hears not what I fay;
1 ftretch my empty arms; it glides away.
To dream once more I clofe my willing eyes;
Ye foft illufions, dear deceits, arife!
Alas, no more! methinks we wandering go
Through dreary waftes, and weep each other's

woe,

240

Where round fome mouldering tower pale ivy

creeps,

And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps.

Sudden you mount, you beckon from the fkies;
Clouds interpofe, waves roar, and winds arise.
I fhriek, ftart up, the fame fad profpe&t find,
And wake to all the griefs I left behind.

251

255

250

For thee the fates, teverely kind, ordain A cool fufpenfe from pleasure and from pain ; Thy life a long dead calm of fix'd repofe; No pulfe that riots, and no blood that glows. Still as the fea, ere winds were taught to blow, Or moving fpirit bade the waters flow; Sotf as the flumbers of a faint forgiven, And mild as opening gleams of promis'd heaven. Come, Abelard! for what haft thou to dread? The torch of Venus burns not for the dead. Nature ftands check'd; Religion disapproves : Ev'n thou art cold-yet Eloïfa loves. Ah, hopeless, lafting flames! like thofe that burn To light th' dead, and warm the unfruitful urn. What fcenes appear where'er I turn my view! The dear ideas, where I fly, purfue, Rife in the grove, before the altar rife, Stain all my foul, and wanton in my eyes. I waste the matin lamp in fighs for thee, Thy image fteals between my God and me, Thy voice I feem in every hymn to hear, With every 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 Hame my plunging foul is drown'd, 275 While Altars blaze, and Angels tremble round,

265

270

While proftrate here in humble grief I lie, Kind, virtuous drops juft gathering in my eye, While, praying, trembling, in the duft I roll, And dawning grace is opening on my foul: 280 Come, if thou dar't, al charming as thou art! Oppofe thyself to Heaven; difpute my heart; Come, with one glance of thofe deluding eyes Blot out each bright idea of the, fkies;

Take back that grace, thofe forrows, and thofe

O Grace ferene! O Virtue heavenly fair!
Divine oblivion of low-thoughted care!
Freft-blooming Hope, gay daughter of the fky!
And Faith, our early immortality!
Enter, each mild, each amicable gueft;
Receive and wrap me in eternal refi!

See in her cell fad Eloïfa fpread, Propt on 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 lamp around, From yonder fhrine I heard a hollow found. "Come, fifter, come!" (it said, or feem'd to fay)

"Thy place is here, fad fifter, come away! 31 "Once like thyfelf, I trembled, wept, a "pray'd,

"Love's victim then, though now a faint «maid:

"But all is calmn in this eternal fleep; "Here grief forgets to groan, and love to weep "Ev'n fuperftition lofes every fear;

"For God, not man, abfolves our frailtie "here."

I come, I come! prepare your rofeate bowers
Celeftial palms, and ever-blooming fowers.
Thither, where finners may have reft, I go,
Where flames refin'd in breafts feraphic glow:
Thou, Abelard! the latt fad office pay,
And fmooth my paffage to the realms of day;
See my lips tremble, and my eye-balls roll,
Suck my laft breath, and catch my flying foul!
Ah no-in facred veftments mayft thou ftand,
The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand, 226
Prefent the Crofs before my lifted eye,
Teach me at once, and learn of me to die.
Ah then, thy once-lov'd Eloïfa fee!

It will be then no crime to gaze on me.
See from my cheek the tranfent rofes fly!
See the laft fpar le languish in my eye!
Till every motion, pulfe, and breath be o'er;
And ev'n my Abelard be lov'd no more,
Death all eloquent! you only prove
What duft we doat on, when 'tis man we love.
Then too, when fate fhall thy fair frame de-

ftroy,

335

(That caufe 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,

From opening fkies may ftreaming glories fire, And Saints embrace thee with a love like mine!

name,

May one kind grave unite each hapless 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 wandering lovers brings To Paraclete's white walls and Elver fprings, O'er the pale marble fhall they join their heads, And drink the falling tears each other meds; 300