O curft, dear horrors of all-conscious night!
How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight!
Provoking dæmons all reftraint remove,
And stir within me ev'ry fource 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,
The phantom flies me, as unkind as you.
I call aloud; it hears not what I fay:
I ftretch my empty arms; it glides away.
To dream once more I close my willing eyes;
Ye foft illufions, dear deceits, arife!

Alas, no more! methinks we wand'ring go

Thro' dreary waftes, and weep each other's woe,
Where, round fome mould'ring tow'r, pale ivy creeps,
And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps.
Sudden you mount, you beckon from the skies;
Clouds interpose, waves roar, and winds arise.
I fhriek, ftart up, the fame fad profpect find,
And wake to all the griefs I left behind.
For thee the fates, feverely kind, ordain
A cool fufpence from pleasure and from pain;
Thy life a long dead calm of fix'd repose;
No pulse that riots, and no blood that glows.
Still as the fea, ere winds were taught to blow,
Or moving spirit bade the waters flow;
Soft as the flumbers of a faint forgiv❜n,
And mild as op'ning gleams of promis'd heav'n.
Come, Abelard! for what haft thou to dread?
The torch of Venus burns not for the dead.

Nature ftands check'd; Religion disapproves ;
Ev'n thou art cold-yet Eloïfa loves.

Ah hopeless, lafting flames! like thofe that burn
To light the dead, and warm th' unfruitful urn.

view?

What fcenes appear where'er I turn my The dear ideas, where I fly, pursue, Rife in the grove, before the altar rise, Stain all my foul, and wanton in my eyes. I waste the Matin lamp in fighs for thee, Thy image fteals between my God and me, Thy voice I feem in ev'ry hymn to hear, With ev'ry bead I drop too foft a tear. When from the cenfer clouds of fragrance roll, And fwelling organs lift the rifing soul, One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight, Priefs, tapers, temples, fwim before my fight: In feas of flame my plunging foul is drown'd, While Altars blaze, and Angels tremble round. While proftrate here in humble grief I lie, Kind, virtuous drops juft gath'ring in my eye, While praying, trembling, in the dust I roll, And dawning grace is op'ning on my foul: Come, if thou dar'ft, all charming as thou art! Oppose thy felf to Heav'n; difpute my heart; Come, with one glance of thofe deluding eyes Blot out each bright idea of the skies; Take back that grace, thofe forrows, and those tears; Take back my fuitless penitence and pray'rs ; Snatch me, juft mounting, from the bleft abode; Affift the fiends, and tear me from my God!

No

No, fly me, fly me, far as Pole from Pole;
Rife Alps between us! and whole oceans roll!
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 !)
Long lov'd, ador'd ideas, all adieu!

O Grace ferene! oh Virtue heav'nly fair!
Divine oblivion of low-thoughted care!

Fresh blooming Hope, gay daughter of the sky!
And Faith, our early immortality!

Enter each mild, each amicable gueft;
Receive and wrap me in eternal rest!
See in her cell fad Eloïfa spread,

Propt on fome tomb, a neighbour of the dead.
In each low wind methinks a Spirit calls,
And more than Echoes talk along the walls.
Here, as I watch'd the dying lamps around,
From yonder shrine I heard a hollow found.
"Come, fifter, come!" fit faid, or feem'd to say)
"Thy place is here, fad fifter, come away!
Once, like thyfelf, I trembled, wept, and pray'd,
Love's victim then, tho' now a fainted maid:
But all is calm in this eternal fleep;

Here grief forgets to groan, and love to weep,
Ev'n fuperftition lofes ev'ry fear:

For God, not man, abfolves our frailties here."

I come, I come! prepare your roseate bow'rs, Celeftial palms, and ever-blooming flow'rs.

Thither, where finners may have reft, I go,
Where flames refin'd in breasts seraphic glow:
Thou, Abelard! the laft fad office pay,

And fmooth my paffage to the realms of day;
See my lips tremble, and my eye-balls roll,
Suck my laft breath, and catch my flying foul!
Ah no-in facred veftments may'st thou ftand,
The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand,
Prefent the Cross before my lifted eye,
Teach me, at once, and learn of me, to die.
Ah then, thy once-lov'd Eloïfa fee;

It will be, then, no crime to gaze on me.
See from my cheek the tranfient roses fly!
See the last sparkle languish in my eye!
'Till ev'ry motion, pulfe, and breath be o'er ;
And e'en my Abelard be lov'd no more.
O Death all-eloquent! you only prove

What duft we doat on, when 'tis man we love.
Then, too, when fate fhall thy fair frame destroy,
(That cause of all my guilt, and all my joy).
In trance extatic may thy pangs be drown'd,
Bright clouds defcend, and Angels watch thee round,
From op'ning fkies may ftreaming glories fhine,
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!
Then, ages hence, when all my woes are o'er,
When this rebellious heart fhall beat no more;
If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings
"To Paraclete's white walls and filver springs,

O'er

O'er the pale marble fhall they join their heads,
And drink the falling tears each other sheds;
Then fadly say, with mutual pity mov'd,
"O may we never love as thefe have lov'd!"
From the full choir, when loud Hofannas rise,
And swell the pomp of dreadful facrifice,
Amid that scene if fome relenting eye

Glance on the ftone where our cold relics lie,
Devotion's felf fhall fteal a thought from Heav'n,
One human tear fhall drop, and be forgiv'n..
And sure, if fate fome 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, fo well;
Let him our fad, our tender ftory tell!
The well-fung woes will footh my pensive ghost;
He beft can paint 'em who fhall feel 'em most.