Imágenes de páginas

Dim and remote the joys of faints 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 sight 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?
The jealous God, when we profane his fires,
Those restless passions in revenge inspires,
And bids them make mistaken mortals groan,
Who seek in love for aught but love alone.
Should at my feet the world's great master fall,
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!

90 Oh! happy state ! when souls each other draw, When love is liberty, and nature, law:

VER. 75

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

Chaucer, P.


All then is full, poffeffing, and possest,
No craving void left aking in the breast :
Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part,
And each warm wish 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 ! Ioa
Where, where was Eloïse ? her voice, her hand,
Her ponyard had oppos’d the dire command.
Barbarian, stay! that bloody stroke restrain;
The crime was common, common be the pain.
I can no more, by shame, by rage suppress’d, Ios
Let tears, and burning blushes speak the rest.

Canst thou forget that fad, that folemn day,
When victims at yon altar's foot we lay?
Canst 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


Come! with thy looks, thy words, relieve my woe; Those still at least are left thee to bestow. 120 Still on that breast enamour'd let me lie, Still drink delicious poison from thy eye, Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be press’d ; Give all thou canst and let me dream the rest. Ah no ! instruct me other joys to prize, 125 With other beauties charm my partial eyes, Full in my view set all the bright abode, And make my foul quit Abelard for God.

Ah think at least thy flock deserves thy care, Plants of thy hand, and children of thy pray’r. 130 From the falle world in early youth they fled, By thee to mountains, wilds, and deserts led. You rais'd these hallow'd walls; the desert smil'd, And Paradise was open’d in the Wild. No weeping orphan saw his father's stores 135 Our shrines irradiate, or emblaze the floors; No silver faints, by dying misers giv'n, Here brib’d the rage of ill-requited heav'n: But such plain roofs as Piety could raise, And only vocal with the Maker's praise. 140 In these lone walls (their days eternal bound) These moss-grown domes with spiry turrets crown'd,

Nores. Ver. 133. You rais'd these hallow'd walls;] He found. ed the Monaitery. P.


Where awful arches make a noon-day night,
And the dim windows shed a solemn light;
Thy eyes diffus’d a reconciling ray,

145 And gleams of glory brighten'd all the day. But now no face divine contentment wears, 'Tis all blank sadness, or continual tears. See how the force of others pray’rs I try, (O pious fraud of am'rous charity !)

150 But why should I on others pray’rs depend ? Come thou, my father, brother, husband, friend! Ah let thy handmaid, fister, daughter move, And all those tender names in one, thy love! The darksome pines that o'er yon rocks reclin'd Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind, The wand'ring streams 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-sounding isles, and intermingled graves, Black Melancholy fits, and round her throws 165 A death-like silence, and a dread repose : Her gloomy presence faddens all the scene, Shades ev'ry flow'r, and darkens ev'ry green,

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]


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 duft remain,

, Here all its frailties, all its flames resign, 175 And wait till 'tis no sin to mix with thine.

Ah wretch! believ'd the spouse of God in vain,
Confess'd within the slave of love and man.
Amist me, heav'n! but whence arose that pray’r ?
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 sollicit new; Now turn’d to heav'n, I weep my past offence, Now think of thee, and curse my innocence. Of all affliction taught a lover yet, 'Tis sure the hardest science to forget!

How shall I lose the fin, yet keep the fense,
And love th’offender, yet detest th’offence?
How the dear' object from the crime remove,
Or how distinguish penitence from love!


« AnteriorContinuar »