How often hope, despair, refent, regret,
Conceal, disdain,---do all things but forget. 200
But let heav'n feize it, all at once 'tis fir'd;
Not touch'd, but rapt; not waken'd, but infpir'd!
Oh come! oh teach me nature to fubdue,
Renounce my love, my life, myself---and you.
Fill my fond heart with God alone, for he 205
Alone can rival, can fucceed to thee.
How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot?
The world forgetting, by the world forgot:
Eternal fun-fhine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;
Labour and reft, 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. Obediet flumbers, etc.] Taken from Crashaw. P.
To founds of heav'nly harps fhe dies
And melts in vifions of eternal day.
Far other dreams my erring foul employ, Far other raptures, of unholy joy: When at the close of each fad, forrowing day, 225 Fancy restores what vengeance snatch'd away, Then confcience fleeps, and leaving nature free, All my loose foul unbounded springs to thee. Oh curft, dear horrors of all-conscious night! How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight! 230 Provoking Dæmons all restraint remove, And stir within me ev'ry source of love. I hear thee, view thee, gaze o'er all thy charms, And round thy phantom glue my clasping arms. I wake :---no more I hear, no more I view, The phantom flies me, as unkind as you. I call aloud; it hears not what I say: I stretch my empty arms; it glides away. To dream once more I clofe my willing eyes; Ye foft illufions, dear deceits, arife! Alas, no more! methinks we wand'ring go Thro' dreary waftes, and weep each other's woe, Where round fome mould'ring tow'r pale ivy
And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps,
Sudden you mount, you beckon from the skies; 245
Clouds interpofe, waves roar, and winds arife.
I fhriek, start up, the fame fad prospect 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; 250
Thy life a long dead calm of fix'd repofe;
No pulse 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,
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. Ah hopeless, lafting flames; like those that burn To light the dead, and warm th' unfruitful urn.
What scenes appear where'er I turn
where'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 fteals between my God and me,
Thy voice I seem in ev'ry hymn to hear,
With ev'ry bead I drop too soft 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, swim before my fight:
In feas of flame my plunging foul is drown'd, 275
While Altars blaze, and Angels tremble round.
While proftrate here in humble grief I lie,
Kind, virtuous drops just gath'ring in my eye,
While praying, trembling, in the dust 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; dispute my heart;
Come, with one glance of thofe deluding eyes
Blot out each bright Idea of the fkies;
Take back that grace, thofe forrows, and those
285
Take back my fruitless penitence and pray'rs ;
Snatch me, just mounting, from the blest 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! 290
Ah, come not, write not, think not once of me,
Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee.
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!
Oh 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 Eloïfa spread,
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 said, or seem'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 :
"For God, not man, abfolves our frailties here."
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