The Works of Alexander Pope: Translations and imitations
J. and P. Knapton, 1751
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Page 28 - Oh! happy state! when souls each other draw, When love is liberty, and nature law...
Page 31 - Long-sounding aisles, and intermingled graves, Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws A death-like silence, and a dread repose: Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene, Shades ev'ry flow'r, and darkens ev'ry green, Deepens the murmur of the falling floods, And breathes a browner horror on the woods.
Page 31 - 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 ; No more these scenes my meditation aid, Or lull to rest the visionary maid.
Page 38 - And smooth my passage to the realms of day; See my lips tremble, and my eyeballs roll, Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul! Ah no — in sacred vestments may'st thou stand, 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.
Page 26 - No happier task these faded eyes pursue ; To read and weep is all they now can do. Then share thy pain...
Page 38 - 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!
Page 39 - When this rebellious heart shall beat no more; If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings To Paraclete's white walls 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!
Page 71 - As on the smooth expanse of crystal lakes The sinking stone at first a circle makes ; The trembling...
Page 30 - With other beauties charm my partial eyes, Full in my view set all the bright abode, And make my soul quit Abelard for God. Ah think at least thy flock deserves thy care, Plants of thy hand, and children of thy pray'r.
Page 26 - Nor prayers nor fasts its stubborn pulse restrain, Nor tears for ages taught to flow in vain. Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose, That well-known name awakens all my woes.