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in vain,

Ahdyretch believd the spouse of God in Confefid within the Slave of Love andr Nan.

El. to Ab,





N these deep solitudes and awful cells,

Where heav nly-pensive contemplation dwells,
And ever-mufing melancholy reigns;
What means this tumult in a Vestal's veins ?
Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat ?

5 Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat? Yet, yet I love !

From Abelard it came,
And Eloisa yet must kiss the name.

Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd,
Nor pass these lips in holy silence seald:
Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise,
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 lost Eloïsa



15 Her heart still dictates, and her hand obeys.

Relentless walls! whofe darksome round contains Repentant sighs, and voluntary pains : Ye rugged rocks! which holy knees have worn; Ye

grots and caverns shagg’d with horrid thorn! Shrines ! where their vigils pale-ey'd virgins keep, And pitying faints, whose ftatues learn to weep! Tho' cold like you, unmov'd and filent grown, I have not yet forgot myself to stone.



All is not Heav'n’s while Abelard has part, 25
Still rebel Nature holds out half my heart;
Nor pray'rs nor fasts its stubborn pulse reftrain,
Nor tears


ages taught to flow in vain. Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose, That well-known name awakens all my woes. 30 Oh name for ever fad! for ever dear! Still breath'd in sighs, still usher'd with a fear, I tremble too, where'er my own I find, Some dire misfortune follows close behind, Line after line my gushing eyes o'erflow, Led thro' a sad variety of woe: Now warm in love, now with’ring in my

bloom, Loft in a convent's folitary gloom ! There itern Religion quench'd th’unwilling flame, There dy'd the best of passions, Love and Fame. 40

Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join
Griefs to thy griefs, and echo fighs to thine.
Nor foes nor fortune take this pow'r away ;;
And is my

Abelard less kind than they?
Tears still are mine, and those I need not spare,

Love but demands what else were shed in pray’r;
No happier talk these faded eyes pursue ;
To read and weep is all they now can do.

Then share thy pain, allow that sad relief; Ah, more than share it, give me all thy grief. Heav'n first taught letters for some wretch's aid, Some banish'd lover, or some captive maid ; They live, they speak, they breathe what love inspires, Warm from the soul, and faithful to its fires, The virgin's wish without her fears impart, 55 Excuse the blash, and pour out all the heart, Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul, And wafs a sigh from Indus to the Pole.


Thou know'st how guiltless first I met thy flame, When Love approach'd me under Friendship's name ; My fancy form'd thee of angelic kind,

61 Some emanation of th' All-beauteous Mind. 7 hofe smiling eyes, attemp’ring ev'ry ray, Shone sweetly lambent with celestial day. Guiltless I gaz'd; heav'n liftend while you fung; 65 And truths divine came mended from that tongue. From lips like those what precept fail'd to move ? Too soon they taught me 'twas no fin to love: Back thro' the paths of pleasing fense I ran, Nor with'd an Angel whom I lov'd a Man.

70 Dim and remote the joys of saints I fee; Nor envy them that heav'n I lose for thee.

How oft, when press’d to marriage, have I said, Curse 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 flies. Let wealth, let honour, wait the wedded dame, August her deed, and sacred be her fame; Before true passion all those views remove, Fame, wealth, and honour? what are you to Love? 80 The jealous God, when we prophane his fires, Those refless paflions in revenge inspires, And bids them make mistaken mortals groan, Who seek in love for aught but love alone.

NOTES. VER. 66. And truths divine, etc.] He was her Preceptor in Phi. losophy and Divinity.

VER. 75,

Love will not be confin'd by Maisterie :
When Maister.e comes, the Lord of Love anon
Hlutters his wings, and forthwith is he gone.



Should at my feet the world's great master fall, 85
Himself, his throne, his world, I'd scorn 'em all:
Not Cæsar's empress would I deign to prove ;
No, make me mistress to the man I love.

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

O! happy state! when souls each other draw,
When love is liberty, and nature law :
All then is full, possessing, and possess’d,
No craving void left aching in the breast:

Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part,
And each warm with springs mutual from the heart.
This sure is bliss (if bliss on earth there be)
And once the lot of Abelard and me.

Alas how chang'd! what sudden horrors rise !
A naked Lover bound and bleeding lies !
Where, where was Elo se?, her voice, her hand,
Her poynard had oppos'd the dire command.
Barbarian, fay! that bloody ftroke restrain ;
The crime was common, common be the pain.
I can no more ; by shame, by rage suppress’d,
Let tears and burning blushes speak the rest.

Canft thou forget that fad, that folemn day,
When vidims at yon altar's foot we lay ?
Canft 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 :
Heav'n scarce believ'd the Conquest it survey'd,
And Saints with wonder heard the vows I made.
Yet then, to those dread altars as I drew, 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,



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