ELOISA

то

A BELARD.

By Mr. POPE.

I

N thefe deep Solitudes and awful Cells,
Where heav'nly-penfive Contemplation

dwells,

And ever-mufing Melancholy reigns;
What means this Tumult in a Veftal's
Veins?

Why rove my Thoughts beyond this laft Retreat?
Why feels my Heart its long-forgotten Heat ?

Yet, yet I love!

From Abelard it came,

And Eloifa yet muft kifs the Name.

Dear fatal Name! reft ever unreveal'd,
Nor pass these Lips in holy Silence feal'd:
Hide it, my Heart, within that close Disguise,
Where mix'd with God's, his lov'd Idea lies:

Oh write it not, my Hand -the Name appears
Already written
wash it out, my Tears!
In vain loft Eloïsa weeps and prays,

Her Heart ftill dictates, and her Hand obeys.

Relentless Walls! whofe darkfome Round contains

Repentant Sighs, and voluntary Pains:

M 3

Ye

Ye rugged Rocks! which holy Knees have worn ;
Ye Grots and Caverns fhagg'd with horrid Thorn!
Shrines! where their Vigils pale-ey'd Virgins keep,
And pitying Saints, whofe Statues learn to weep!
Though cold like you, unmov'd and filent grown,
I have not yet forgot myself to Stone.

Heav'n claims me all in vain, while he has Part,
Still Rebel Nature holds out Half my Heart;
Nor Pray'rs nor Fafts its stubborn Pulfe reftrain,
Nor Tears, for Ages, taught to flow in vain.
Soon as thy Letters trembling I unclose,
That well-known Name awakens all my Woes.
Oh Name for ever fad ! for ever dear!
Still breath'd in Sighs, ftill ufher'd with a Tear.
I tremble too where'er my own I find,
Some dire Misfortune follows clofe behind.
Line after Line my gufhing Eyes o'erflow,
Led through a fad Variety of Woe:

Now warm in Love, now with'ring in thy Bloom,
Loft in a Convent's folitary Gloom!

There ftern Religion quench'd th'unwilling Flame,
There died the best of Paffions, Love and Fame.
Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join
Griefs to thy Griefs, and echo Sighs to thine.
Nor Foes nor Fortune take this Pow'r away;
And is my Abelard lefs kind than they?
Tears ftill are mine, and those I need not spare,
Love but demands what elfe were fhed in Pray`r;
No happier Task these faded Eyes purfue;
To read and weep is all they now can do.

Then share thy Pain, allow that fad Relief;
Ah, more than fhare it! give me all thy Grief.
Heav'n first taught Letters for fome Wretch's Aid,
Some banish'd Lover, or fome cap:ive Maid;

They

They live, they speak, they breathe what Love in

fpires,

Warm from the Soul, and faithful to its Fires,
The Virgin's Wifh without her Fears impart,
Excufe the Blufh, and pour out all the Heart,
Speed the foft Intercourfe from Soul to Soul,
And waft a Sigh from Indus to the Pole.

Thou know'ft how guiltless first I met thy Flame, When Love approach'd me under Friendship's Name;

My Fancy form'd thee of angelic Kind,

Some Emanation of th' all-beauteous Mind.
Thofe fmiling Eyes, attemp'ring every Ray,
Shone fweetly lambent with celestial Day.
Guiltlefs I gaz'd; Heav'n liften'd while you fung;
And Truths divine came mended from that Tongue.
From Lips like thofe what Precept fail'd to move?
Too foon they taught me 'twas no Sin to love:
Back through the Paths of pleafing Senfe I ran,
Nor wish'd an Angel whom I lov'd a Man.
Dim and remote the Joys of Saints I fee;
Nor envy them that Heav'n I lose for thee.

How oft', when preft to Marriage, have I faid,
Curfe on all Laws but thofe which Love has made?
Love, free as Air, at Sight of human Ties,
Spreads his light Wings, and in a Moment flies.
Let Wealth, let Honour, wait the wedded Dame,
Auguft her Deed, and facred be her Fame;
Before true Paffion all thofe Views remove,
Fame, Wealth, and Honour! what are you to Love?
The jealous God, when we profane his Fires,
Thofe reftlefs Paffions in Revenge infpires,
And bids them make mistaken Mortals groan,
Who feek in Love for ought but Love alone.

Should at my Feet the World's great Mafter fall,
Himself, his Throne, his World, I'd scorn 'em all:
Not Cafar's Emprefs 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!
Oh happy State ! when Souls each other draw,
When Love is Liberty, and Nature, Law:
All then is full. poffeffing, and poffefs'd,
No craving Void left aking in the Breaft:
Ev'n Thought meets Thought, e'er from the Lips
it part,

And each warm Wish fprings mutual from the Heart.
This fure is Blifs (if Blits on Earth there be)
And once the Lot of Abelard and me.

Alas how chang'd! what fudden Horrors rife ?
A naked Lover bound and bleeding lies!
Where, where was Eloife? her Voice, her Hand,
Her Poniard, 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 fupprefs'd,
Let Tears, and burning Blushes fpeak the reft.

Canft thou forget that fad, that folemn Day,
When Victims at yon' Altar's Foot we lay?
Canft thou forget what Tears that Moment fell,
When, warm in Youth, I bade the World farewell?
As with cold Lips I kifs'd the facred Veil,

The Shrines all trembled, and the lamps grew pale:
Heav'n scarce believ'd the Conqueft it furvey'd,
And Saints with Wonder heard the Vows I made.
Yet then, to thofe dread Altars as I drew,
Not on the Cross my Eyes were fix'd, bur
Not Grace, or Zeal, Love only was my Call,
And if I lofe thy Love, I lofe my all.

you:

Come!