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diffuz'd a reconciling ray,
And gleams of glory brightend all the day.
But now no face divine contentment wears,
"Tis all blank sadness, or continual tears.
See how the force of others prayers I try,
(O pious fraud. of amorous charity!)
But why should I on others prayers depend!
Come thou, my father, brother, husband, friend!
Ah, let thy handmaid, filter, daughter, move,
And all those tender names in one, thy love!
The darksome pines that o'cr yon rocks reclin'd, 155
Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind,
The wandering Itreams 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-founding ailles, and intermingled graves,
Black Melancholy hts, and round her throws 165
A death-like hilence, and a dread repose ;
Her gloomy presence laddens 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 must I stay ;
Sad proof how well a lover can obey !
Death, only death, can break the lasting chain ;
And here, ev’n then, shall my cold dust remain;
Here all its frailties, all its flames resign,
And wait till 'tis no fin to mix with thine.
Ah, wretch! believ'd the spouse of God in vain,
Confefs'd within the slave of love and man.
Alift me, Heaven! but whence arose 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,
185 Repent old pleasures, and solicit new; Now turn'd to heaven, I weep my part offence, Now think of thee, and curfe my innocence. Of all affliction taught a lover yet, 'Tis sure the hardest science to forget!
190 How shall I lose the fin, yet keep the fense, And love th' offender, yet deteft th' offence ? How the dear object from the crime remove, Or how distinguish penitence from love ? Unequal talk! a passion to resign,
195 For hearts to touch'd, so pierc'd, fo loft as mine ! Ere such a soul regains its peaceful state, How often muft it love, how often hate ! How often hope, despair, refent, regret, Conceal, disdain, - do all things but forget? But let heaven seize it, all at once 'tis fir'd: Not touch d, but rapt; not waken'd, but inspird ! Oh come ! oh teach me nature to subdue, Renounce my love, my life, myself
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 sun-line of the spotless mind!
Each prayer accepted, and each with resign'd;
Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
66 Obedient Numbers that can wake and weep;"
Desires compos'd, affections ever even ;
Tears that delight, and fighs that waft to heaven.
Grace shines around her with serenest beams, 215
And whispering Angels prompt her golden dreams.
For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms,
And wings of Seraphs shed divine perfumes,
For her the spouse prepares the bridal ring,
For her white virgins Hymenæals fing,
To sounds of heavenly harps she dies away,
And melts in visions of eternal day.
Far other dreams my erring soul employ,
Far other raptures, of unholy joy:
When, at the close of each fad, forrowing day, 225
Fancy restores what vengeance snatch'd away,
Then conscience fleeps, and leaving nature free,
All my loose soul unbounded springs to thee.
O curst, dear horrors of all-conscious night!
How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight ! 230
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.
:--no more I hear, no more I view, 255 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 tower pale ivy creeps, And low-brow'd rocks hang 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 fpirit bade the waters flow, Soft as the numbers of a saint forgiven,
255 And mild as opening gleams of promis'd heaven.
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 Eloisa loves.
260 Ah, hopeless, lasting fames ! like those that burn To light the dead, and warm th' unfruitful urn.
What scenes appear where'er I turn my view.? The dear ideas, where I dy, pursue,
Rise in the grove, before the altar' rise,
Stain all my soul, and wanton in my eyes.
I waste the matin lamp in fighs for thee,
Thy image steals between my God and me,
Thy voice I seem in every hymn to hear,
With every bead I drop too soft a tear,
When from the cenfer clouds of fragrance roll,
And swelling organs lift the rising soul,
One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight,
Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my fight:
In seas of fame my plunging soul is drown'd, 275
While Altars blaze, and Angels tremble round.
While proftrate here in humble grief I lie,
Kind, virtuous drops just gathering in my eye,
While, praying, trembling, in the duft I roll,
And dawning grace is opening on my soul: 280
Come, if thou dar'ít, all charming as thou art!
Oppose thyself to Heaven ; dispute my heart;
Come, with one glance of those deluding eyes
Blot out each bright idea of the skies ;
Take back that grace, those sorrows, and those tears;
Take back my fruitless penitence and prayers ;
Snatch me, just mounting, from the blest abode ;
Allist the fiends, and tear me from my God !
No, ily 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 resign;
Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine.