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A BELA R D.
N these deep folitudes and awful cells, Where heav'nly-penfive contemplation dwells, And ever-musing melancholy reigns; What means this tumult in a Vestal's veins ?
Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat? 5
Dear fatal name! reft ever unreveal'd, Nor pass these lips in holy filence feal'd: Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise, Where mix'd with God's, his lov'd Idea lies: O write it not my hand---the name appears Already written---wash it out, my tears!
In vain loft Eloïfa weeps and prays,
tains Repentant fighs, and voluntary pains : 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,
All is not Heav'n's while Abelard has part, 25
Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose, That well-known name awakens all my woes. 30 Oh name for ever fad! for ever dear!
Still breath'd in fighs, still usher'd with a tear. I tremble too, where'er my own I find,
Some dire misfortune follows close behind. my gushing eyes o'erflow,
Line after line
Led thro' a fad variety of woe:
Now warm in love, now with'ring in my bloom, Loft in a convent's folitary gloom!
Thereftern Religion quench'd th' unwilling flame,
Then share thy pain, allow that fad relief; Ah, more than share it, give me all thy grief. 50 Heav'n first taught letters for fome wretch's aid, Some banish'd lover, or fome captive maid; They live, they speak, they breathe what love inspires,
Warm from the foul, and faithful to its fires,
Thou know'ft how guiltless first I met thy flame, When Love approach'd me under friendship's
My fancy form'd thee of angelic kind,
Those smiling eyes, attemp'ring ev'ry ray,
How oft, when press'd to marriage, have I said,
VER. 66. And truths divine, etc.] He was her Preceptor in Philofophy and Divinity.
Love will not be confin'd by Maisterie:
When Maisterie comes, the Lord of Love anon
Flutters his wings, and forthwith is he gone.
The jealous God, when we profane his fires, 81
And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart.
This fure is blifs (if bliss on earth there be)
Alas how chang'd! what sudden horrors rise! A naked Lover bound and bleeding lies! Where, where was Eloïfe? her voice, her hand! Her ponyard had oppos'd the dire command. Barbarian, ftay! that bloody ftroke restrain; The crime was common, common be the pain.