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Snatch me, just mounting, from the blest abode ;
Alift the fiends, and tear me from my

No, fly me, fly me, far as Pole from Pole;
Rise Alps between us.! and whole oceans roll! 290
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 refign;
Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was, mine.
Fair eyes, and tempting looks (which yet I view !) 295
Long lov'd, ador'd ideas, all adieu !
O Grace serene ! oh Virtue heay'nly fair!
Divine oblivion of low-thoughted care!
Fresh-blooming Hope, gay daughter of the sky!
And Faith, our early immortality!

300 Enter, each mild, each amicable guest ; keceive and wrap me in eternal rest!

See in her cell fad Elo:fa spread, Propt on some tomb, a neighbour of the dead. In each low wind methinks a Spirit calls, 305 And more than Echoes talk along the walls. Here, as I watch'd the dying lamps around, From yonder ihrine I heard a hollow sound, “ Come, sister, come !" (it said, or seem'd to say)

Thy place is here, fad fifter, come away! 310 je. Once like thyself, I trembled, wept, and pray'd, " Love's vi&tim then, tho' now a sainted maid: “ But all is calm in this eternal sleep; * Here grief forgets to groan, and love to weep, de Ev'n superstition lofes ev'ry fear ;

315 “ For God, not man, absolves our frailties here."

I come, I come! prepare your roseate bow'rs, Celestial palms, and ever-blooming flow'rs. Thither, where finners may have reft, I go, Where flames refind in breasts seraphic glow: 32@

Suck my
Ah no

Thou, Abelard ! the last fad office pay,
And smooth my passage to the realms of day;
See my lips tremble, and my eye-balls roll,

last breath, and catch my flying foul !

in sacred vestments 'may'st thou ttand, 325 The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand, Present the Cross before my lifted eye, Teach me at once, and learn of me to die. Ah then, thy once-lov'd Eloïsa see! It will be then no crime to gaze on me.

330 See from my cheek the transient roses Ay! See the last fparkle languish in my eye! 'Till ev'ry motion, pulfe, and breath be o'er ; And ev'n my Abelard be lov'd no more. O Death all-eloquent! you only prove

335 What duft we doat on, when 'tis man we love.

Then too, when face shall thy fair frame defroy, (That cause of all my guilt, and all my joy) In trance extatic may thy pangs be drown'd, 339 Bright clouds descend, and Angels watch thee round, From op'ning skies may streaming glories fine, And Saints embrace thee with a love like mine.

May one kind grave unite each hapless name, And graft my love immortal on thy fame!

hen, ages hence, when all my woes are o’er, 345 When this rebellious heart shall beat no more ; If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings To Paraclete's white walls and silver springs, O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads, And drink the falling tears each other sheds ;


NOI I '$• VIR. 343. May one kind grave, etc.] Abelard and Eloïsa were interred in the same grave, or in monuments adjoining, in the Monastery of the Para ete : he died in the year 1142, the in 1163,

Then fadly fay, with mutual pity mov'd,
“ O may we never love as these have loy'd !"
From the full choir, when loud Hofannas rise,
And swell the pomp of dreadful sacrifice,
Amid that scene if some relenting eye

Glance on the stone where our cold relicks lie,
Devotion's felf fhall feal a thought from heav’n,
One human tear shall drop, and be forgiv'n.
And sure if fate some future bard shall join
In fad fimilitude of griefs to mine,
Condemn'd whole years in absence to deplore,
And image charms he must behold no more;
Such if there be, who loves fo long, so well;
Let him our fad, our tender story tell !
The well-fung woes will footh my penfive ghoft; 368
He best cap paint 'em who shall feel 'em most,






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THE following Translations were selected from

many others done by the Author in șis Youth ; for the most part indeed but a sort of Exercises, while he was improving himself in the Languages, and carried by his early Bent to Poetry to perform them rather in Verse than Prose. Mr. Dryden's Fables came out about that time, which occafioned the Translations from Chaucer. They were first separately printed in Miscellanies by. J. Tonson and B. Lintot, and afterwards collected in the Quarto Edition of 1717. The Imitations of English Authors, which follow, were done as early, some of them at fourteen or fifteen years old.

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