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 fufpenfe from pleasure and from pain;
Thy life a long, dead calm of fix'd repofe;
No pulfe that riots, and no blood that glows.
Still as the fea, e'er winds were taught to blow,
Or moving spirit bade the waters flow;
Soft as the flumbers of a faint forgiv'n,

And mild as opening gleams of promis'd heav'n.
Come, Abelard! for what haft thou to dread?
The torch of Venus burns not for the dead;
Cut from the root my perifh'd joys I fee,

And love's warm tyde for ever stopt in thee.
Nature ftands check'd; religion difapproves;
Ev'n thou art cold-yet Eloifa loves.

Ah hopeless, lafting flames! like those that burn
To light the dead, and warm th' unfruitful urn.
What scenes appear where-e'er I turn my view,
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 steals between my God and me,

Thy

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 foul;

One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight,
Priests, 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 duft I roll,
And dawning grace is opening on my foul.
Come, if thou dar'ft, all charming as thou art!
Oppofe 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, those forrows, and those tears,
Take back my fruitlefs penitence and pray'rs,

Snatch me, juft mounting, from the bleft abode,
Affift the fiends and tear me from my God!

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.

H 2

Thy

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 guest;
Receive, and wrap me in eternal rest!
See in her cell fad Eloisa spread,

Propt in fome tomb, a neighbour of the dead!
In each low wind methinks a fpirit calls,
And more than echoes talk along the walls.
Here, as I watch'd the dying lamps around,
From yonder fhrine I heard a hollow found.
Come, fifter come! (it faid, or feem'd to fay)
Thy place is here, fad fifter come away!
Once like thy felf, 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 ye ghosts! prepare your roseate bow'rs, Celestial palms, and ever blooming flow'rs.

Thither, where finners may have rest I go,
Where flames refin'd in breafts feraphic 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 last breath, and catch the flying foul!
Ah no- in facred veftments may'ft thou ftand,
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 Eloisa see!

It will be then no crime to gaze on me.
See from my cheek the tranfient rofes fly!
See the last sparkle languifh in my eye!

Till ev'ry motion, pulfe, and breath be o'er;
And even my Abelard belov'd no more.
O death all-eloquent! you only prove

What duft we doat 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 extatic may thy pangs be drown'd, Bright clouds defcend, and angels watch thee round,

From opening fkies may ftreaming glories shine,
And faints 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 wandring lovers brings
To Paraclete's white walls, and filver fprings,
O'er the pale marble hall they join their heads,
And drink the falling tears each other sheds,
Then fadly fay, with mutual pity mov'd,
Oh may we never love as these have lov'd!
From the full quire when loud Hofanna's rife,
And fwell the pomp of dreadful facrifice,
Amid that scene, if fome relenting eye
Glance on the stone where our cold reliques lie,
Devotion's felf shall steal a thought from heav'n,
One human tear fhall drop, and be forgiv'n.
And fure if fate fome future bard fhall join
In fad fimilitude of griefs to mine,
Condemn'd whole years in abfence to deplore,

And image charms he must behold no more,

Abelard and Eloifa were interr'd in the fame grave, or in monuments adjoining, in the monastery of Paraclete: He died in the year 1142, she in 1163.

Such