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How often hope, despair, refent, regret,
How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot? The world forgetting, by the world forgot: Eternal fun-fhine of the spotlefs mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd; Labour and rest, that equal periods keep; 211 "Obedient flumbers that can wake and weep ;" Defires compos'd, affections ever even ; Tears that delight, and fighs that waft to heav'n. Grace fhines around her with ferenest beams, 215 And whifp'ring Angels prompt her golden dreams. For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms, And wings of Seraphs fhed divine perfumes, For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring, For her white virgins Hymenæals fing,
VET.212. Obedie it flumbers, etc.] Taken from Crashaw. P.
To founds of heav'nly harps fhe dies
I hear thee, view thee, gaze o'er all thy charms,
I stretch my empty arms; it glides away.
And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps.
Sudden you mount, you beckon from the skies; 245
For thee the fates, feverely kind, ordain A cool fufpenfe from pleasure and from pain; 250 Thy life a long dead calm of fix'd repose; No pulfe that riots, and no blood that glows, Still as the fea, ere winds were taught to blow, Or moving spirit bade the waters flow; Soft as the flumbers of a faint forgiv'n, 255 And mild as op'ning gleams of promis'd heav'n.
Come, Abelard! for what haft thou to dread? The torch of Venus burns not for the dead. Nature ftands check'd; Religion disapproves; Ev'n thou art cold---yet Eloïfa loves. 260 Ah hopeless, lasting flames; like those that burn To light the dead, and warm th' unfruitful urn.
What scenes appear where'er I turn my view? The dear Ideas, where I fly, pursue, Rife in the grove, before the altar rife, Stain all my foul, and wanton in my eyes. I waste the Matin lamp in fighs for thee, Thy image fteals between God and me,
Thy voice I seem in ev'ry hymn to hear,
While proftrate here in humble grief I lie, Kind, virtuous drops just gath'ring in my eye, While praying, trembling, in the duft I roll, And dawning grace is op'ning on my foul: 280 Come, if thou dar'ft, all charming as thou art! Oppose thyself to heav'n; difpute my heart; Come, with one glance of those deluding eyes Blot out each bright Idea of the skies ; Take back that grace, thofe forrows, and those 285
Take back my fruitless penitence and pray'rs;
Thy oaths I quit, thy memory refign;
See in her cell fad Eloïfa fpread, Prompt on fome tomb, a neighbour of the dead. In each low wind methinks a Spirit calls, 305 And more than Echoes talk along the walls. Here, as I watch'd the dying lamps around, From yonder shrine I heard a hollow found.
Come, fifter, come! (it faid, or feem'd to say) Thy place is here, fad fifter, come away! 310 "Once like thyself, 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 every fear: 315 "For God, not man, abfolves our frailties here."