How oft, when press'd to marriage, have I said, Curse on all laws but those which love has made! 75 Love, free as air, at sight of human ties, all: Not Cæsar's empress would I deign to prove; 81 86 91 88 No, make me mistress to the man I love. This monstrous sentiment is scarcely justified by the original. Eloisa merely puts a case:-' 'If Augustus should offer me the honors of matrimony, and the world along with it, I should think it dearer, and more honorable, to be called your mistress than his empress.' The often quoted, and untrue sentiment, that love is inconsistent with the common obligations of society, is perhaps borrowed from Chaucer : Love will not be confined by maisterie: When maisterie comes, the lord of love anon Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part; 95 And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart. . This sure is bliss, if bliss on earth there be ; 100 Alas, how changed! what sudden horrors rise! A naked lover bound and bleeding lies! Where, where was Eloise? her voice, her hand, Her poniard had opposed the dire command. Barbarian, stay! that bloody stroke restrain; The crime was common, common be the pain. I can no more: by shame, by rage suppress'd, 105 Let tears and burning blushes speak the rest. Canst thou forget that sad, that solemn day, When victims at yon altar's foot we lay? Canst thou forget what tears that moment fell, When, warm in youth, I bade the world farewell? As with cold lips I kiss'd the sacred veil, The shrines all trembled, and the lamps grew pale: 111 115 Heaven scarce believed the conquest it survey'd, Come, with thy looks, thy words, relieve my wo; 120 119 Come, with thy looks. The original here simply applies to the letters of Abelard :- Listen, I beseech you,' says Eloisa, to what I ask you will see it to be but little, and, to you, of the easiest kind: while I am deprived of your presence, Still on that breast enamor'd let me lie, 125 Ah, think at least thy flock deserves thy care, Plants of thy hand, and children of thy prayer; From the false world in early youth they fled, 131 By thee to mountains, wilds, and deserts led. You raised these hallow'd walls; the desert smiled, 135 And paradise was open'd in the wild. Where awful arches make a noon-day night, 140 145 give me the happiness of your presence by your words, in which you are so affluent: how shall I expect to find you liberal in reality, if in words I find you penurious?' 150 See how the force of others' prayers I try; 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 But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves, Sad proof how well a lover can obey! Death, only death, can break the lasting chain; 175 Ah, wretch! believed the spouse of God in vain, Confess'd within the slave of love and man! Assist me, Heaven! but whence arose that prayer? Sprung it from piety or from despair? 180 Ev'n here, where frozen chastity retires, 185 190 195 For hearts so touch'd, so pierced, so lost as mine. 200 201 But let Heaven seize it. The sect of the Quietists, who chiefly placed religion in hysteric raptures, was much talked of at this period: Fenelon, whose heart was evidently more vivid than his understanding, made himself conspicuous, and in some degree ridiculous, by the human ardor of his spiritual transports. Madame Guyon, with whom he corresponded, was an enthusiast still more removed from rationality, and still more likely to have mistaken dreams for inspiration: but this union of lover-like passion with ascetic piety was com- / mon and favorite in the times of foreign saintship. Pope had read Crashaw, whose poems on this subject are almost amatory; and he even takes from him intire the touching line,-Obedient slumbers, that can wake and weep. |