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Barbarian, stay! that bloody stroke restrain;
Canst thou forget that sad, that solemn day,
115 Not on the cross my eyes were fix'd, but you: Not grace, or zeal, love only was my call, And if I lose thy love, I lose my all. Come! with thy looks, thy words, relieve my woe; Those still at least are left thee to bestow, 120 Still on that breast enamour'd let me lie, Still drink delicious poisons from thy eye, Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be press'd; Give all thou cans'
tand let me dream the rest. Ah no ! instruct me other joys to prize,
125 With other beauties charm my partial eyes; Full in my view set all the bright abode, And make my soul quit Abelard for God.
Ah think at least thy flock deserves thy care, Plants of thy hand, and children of thy pray'r. 130 From the false world in early youth they fled, By thee to mountains, wilds, and deserts led. You rais'd these hallow'd walls; the desert smil'd, And paradise was open'd in the wild. No weeping orphan saw his father's stores
195 Our shrines irradiate, or emblaze the floors; No silver saints, by dying misers giv'n, Here brib'd the rage of ill-requited Heav'n; But such plain proofs as picty could raise, And only vocal with the maker's praise. 140 In these lone walls (their day's eternal bound), These moss-grown domes with spiry turrets crown'd,
Where awful arches make a noon-day night;
145 And gleams of glory brighten'd all the day. 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!)
150 But why should I on others' pray’rs depend? Come thou, my father, brother, husband, friend! Ah 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 155 Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind, The wandering streams that shine between the hills, The grots that echo to the tinkling rills, The dying gales that pant upon the trees, The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze; 160 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 165 A death-like silence, and a dread repose: Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene, Shades every flow'r, 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 must I stay; Sad proof how well a lover can obey ! Death, only death, can break the lasting cliain; And here, ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain; Here all its frailties, all its flames resign, 175 And wait till'tis no sin to mix with thine.
Ab wretch! believ'd the spouse of God in vain, Confess'd within the slave of love and man. Assist me, Heav'o! but whence arose that pray'r? Sprung it from piety, or from despair?
180 Ev'n here, where frozen chastity retires, Love finds an altar for forbidden fires.
I ought to grieve, but cannot what I ought?
195 For bearts 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-do all things but forget! 200 But let Heav'n seize it, all at once 'tis fir'd; Not touch'd, but rapt; not waken'd, but inspird; O come! O teach me nature to subdue, Renounce my love, iny life, myself—and you: Fill my fond heart with God alone, for he 205 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 pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd; 210 Labour and rest, that equal periods keep; Obedient slumbers, that can wake and weep; Desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n: . Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heav'n; Grace shines around her with serenest beams. 215 And whispering angels prompt her golden dreams. For her th' unfading rose of Éden blooms, And wings of seraphs shed divine perfuines; For her the spouse prepares the bridal ring; For her white virgins hymenaal sing;
220 To sounds of heavenly harps she dies away, And melts in visions of cternal day.
Far other dreams my erring soul employ, Far other raptures of unholy joy: When at the close of each sad, sorrowing day, 295 Fancy restores what vengeance snatch'd away, Then conscience sleeps and leaving nature free, All my loose soul unbounded springs to thec. Oh curst, dear horrors of all-conscious night! How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight! 230
cen delight! Provoking demons all restraint remove, And stir within me every source of love. 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 say: I stretch my empty arms; it glides away. To dream once more I close my willing eyes; Ye soft illusions, dear deceits, arise!
240 Alas, no more! methinks we wandering go Through dreary wastes, and weep each other's woe, Where round some mouldering tow'r pale ivy
creeps, And low-brow'd rocks bang nodding o'er the deeps. Sudden you mount, you beckon from the skies; 245 Clouds interpose, waves roar, and winds arise. I shriek, start up, the same sad prospect find, And wake to all the griefs I left behind.
For thee the fates, severely kind, ordain A cool suspense from pleasure and from pain; 250 Thy life a long dead calm of fix'd repose; No pulse that riots, and no blood that glows. 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,
255 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.
260 VOL. II.
Ah hopeless, lasting flames! like those that burn
What scenes appear where'er I turn my view ?
While prostrate here in humble grief I lie,
No, fly me, fly me, far as pole from pole;