« ПредишнаНапред »
Unequal talk ! a passion to resign,
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot !
Far other dreams my erring loul employ, Far other raptures of unholy joy : When at the close of each sad, sorrowing day, 225 Fancy restores what Vengeance snatch'd away, Then Conscience fleeps, and leaving Nature free, All my loose soul unbounded springs to thee. Oh curst, dear horrors of all-conscious night! How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight! 230 Provoking dæmons all restraint remove, And stir within me ev'ry source of love. I hear thee, view thee, gaze o’er all thy charms, And round thy phantom glue my clasping arms.
I wake :
I wake no more I hear, no more I view,
235 The phantom flies me, as unkind as you. I call aloud ; it hcars not what I lay : 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 wand'ring go Through dreary wastes, and weep each other's woe, Where round lome mould'ring tow'r pale ivy creeps, And low-brow'd rocks hang nodling o'er the deeps, Sudden you mount, you beckon from the skies ; 245 Clouds interpote, waves roar, and winds arise. I shriek, start up, the fame sad prospect find, And wake to all the griefs I left behind.
For thee the Fates, severely kind, ordain A cool suspence from pleasure and from pain ; 250 Thy life a long dead calm of fix'd repole; No pulse that riots, a d no blood that glows. Stiil as the tea, ere winds were taught to blow, Or moving spirits bid the waters flow; Soft as the slumbers of a faint forgiv'n, 255 And mild as en ing gleams of promis'd heav'n.
Come, Abelard ! for what halt 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, latting fames ! like those that burn To light the dead, and warm th' unfruitful urn.
What scenes appear where'er I turn my view ?
In feas of flame my plunging foul is drown'd, 275 While altars blaze, and angels tremble round,
While proftrate here in humble grief I lie, Kind virtuous drops just gath’ring in my eye ; While praying, trembling, in the dust I roll, And dawning grace is op'ning on my soul ; Come, it thou dar'ít, all charming as thou art ! Oppose thyself to Heav'n; 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 pray’rs ;
286 Snatch me, just mounting, from the blest abode; Assist the fiends, and tear me from my God.
No, fly me, fly ine, far as pole from pole; Rife Alps between us! and whole oceans roll:
290 Ah, come not, write not, think not once of me, Nor Mare one pang of all I felt for thee. Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign; 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 !
296 O Grace serene ! O Virtue heav'nly fair! Divine oblivion of low-thoughted care ! Fresh blooming Hopé, gay daughter of the sky! And Faith, our early immortality!
300 Enter each mild, each amicable guest; Receive, and wrap me in eternal rest!
See in her cell lad Eloïsa spread,
305 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, fister, come ! (it said, or seem'd to say ;) « Thy place is here, sad sister, come away. 310 « Once, like thyself, I trembled, wept, and pray'd ; “ Love's victim then, though now a fainted maid: 66 But all is calm in this eternal sleep; " Here Grief forgets to groan, and Love to weep;
« Ev'n superstition loses every
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 refin'd in breasts seraphic glow. 320 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, Suck my last breath, and catch my fiying foul! Ah, no---in sacred vestments mayst thou stand, 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 fly! See the last sparkle languish in my eye! 'Till ev'ry motion, pulfe, and breath be o'er ; And ev’n my Abelard be lov'd no more. Oh Death, áll-eloquent ! you only prove 335 What dust we dote on, when 'tis man we love.
Then too, when Fate shall thy fair frame destroy, (That cause of all my guilt, and all my joy,) In trance ecstatic may thy pangs be drown'd, Bright clouds descend, and angels watch thee round; From op’ning skies may streaming glories shine, 341 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, 345 When this rebellious heart shall beat no more; If ever Chance two wand'ring lovers brings To Paraclete's white wails and silver springs, O’er the pale marble shall they join their heads, And drink the falling tears each other sheds; 350 Then sadly say, with mutual pity mov'd, “Oh may we never love as these have lov'd!” From the full choir when loud hosannas rife, And swell the pomp of dreadful facrifice,
Amid that scene if some relenting eye