I come, I come! prepare your roseate bowersj
Celeftial palms, and ever blooming flow'rs.
Thither, where finners may have reft, I go,
Where flames refin'd in breafts feraphic glow:
Thou, Abelard! the laft fad office pay,
And smooth my paffage to the realms of day ;:
See my lips tremble, and my eye-balls roll,
Suck my last breath, and catch my flying foul!
Ah no-in facred veftments mayft thou stand,
The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand,
Prefent the cross before my lifted eye,
Teach me at once, and learn of me to die,
Ah then, thy once-lov'd Eloifa fee!,
It will be then no crime to gaze on me..
See from my cheek the tranfient rofes fly!
See the last sparkle languish in my eye!!
Till ev'ry motion, pulfe, and breath be o'er;
And ev❜n my Abelard be lov'd no more..
O death all eloquent! you only prove
What duft we doat on, when 'tis man we love..
Then too, when fate fhall thy fair frame deftroy
That caufe of all my guilt, and all my joy),.
In trance ecftatic may thy pangs be drown'd,
Bright clouds defcend; and angels watch thee round 3.
From op'ning fkies may ftreaming glories fhine,
And faints embrace thee with a love like mine..
May one kind grave unite each hapless name*,
And graft my love immortal on thy fame!
Then, ages hence, when all my woes are o’er,
When this rebellious heart fhall beat no more;
If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings
To Paraclete's white walls and filver fprings,
O'er the pale marble fhall they join their heads,
And drink the falling tears each other sheds;
Then fadly fay, with mutual pity mov'd,
may we never love as these have lov'd!!
From the full choir when loud hofannas rise,
And fwell the pomp of dreadful facrifice,
Amid that fcene, if fome relenting eye
Glance on the ftone where our cold relics lie,
Devotion's fcif fhall fteal a thought from Heav'nj
One human tear fhall drop, and be forgiv'n..
And fure, if fate fome future bard fhall join,
In fad fimilitude of griefs to mine,-
Condemn'd whole years in abfence to deplore,
And image charms he must behold no more;
Such if there be, who love fo long, fo well,
Let him our fad, our tender flory tell;
The well fung woes will footh my pensive ghost
He best can paint 'em who fhall feel 'em most,
* Abelard and Eloifa were interred in the fame grave,monuments adjoining, in the monaftery of the Para He died in the year 1142, fhe in 1163,
AS along the lone thicket I stray'd,
To imbibe the sweet drops of the dawn,
That sparkle beneath the green shade,
And embalm the foft air of the morn;
I fpy'd on a hillock of mofs,
A younker just risen from reft,
Who, eftrang'd from all tender remorse,
Had feiz'd on a chaffinch's neft.
Scarce fledg'd were the young
And chirp'd (for they felt the cold air)
And mourn'd for the mother's foft wings,
The mother's fond provident care.
Defcription would die on my tongue,
If I ftrove to relate the fad tale:
'Tis too much to repeat in my fong;
E'en numbers pathetic would fail,
To fee the fond mother behind,
Depriv'd of her infant young race:
I hop'd to her moan he'd be kind,
And ftraight the poor captives replace
Impatient he flutter'd around,
Befpeaking his tender regard:
Unmindful he fat on the ground,
Unmov'd the petitioner heard.
Then, rifing, he chid her away,
As homeward the neflings he bore: But fhe, ah! unable to flay,
Clofe follow'd them home to his door,
Now in a small cage they're confind,
And out of the cafement are hung;
Where fome sweet relief (he may find,
young.
To feed and to tend on her
Ye mothers, of feeling poffefs'd,
Who protect your dear infants with care!
Could fuffer them torn from your breaft,
And carry'd you could not tell where ?
hear the poor innocents cry,
And fee them borne off from your fight;
And would you not follow, nay fly,
And fuffer harsh threats with delight?
Speak-could you endure the hard cafe,
To have the fweet babes of your heart
Secluded each tender embrace,
And kept from their mother apart?
Tis unnatural e'er to fuppofe,
That mothers fo bafely were taught, To abandon their babes to fuch woes: Humanity weeps at the thought.
Ofay then, fond mothers! I pray,
Suppofing the cafe were your own,
That your infants were taken away,
Is not this too acute to be borne→→
Ofay then-(for you can exprefs)
Say mothers, of gentleft tongue;
Ah paint the exceeding diftrefs
Of a bird that's bereft of its young!
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