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Ah think at least thy flock deferves thy care, Plants of thy hand, and children of thy pray'r. 130 From the false world in early youth they fled, By thee to mountains, wilds, and deferts led. You rais'd thefe hallow'd walls; the defert fmil'd, And Paradife was open'd in the Wild.
No weeping orphan faw his father's stores
Our shrines irradiate, or emblaze the floors;
No filver faints, by dying mifers giv'n,
Here brib'd the rage of ill-requited heav'n:
But fuch plain roofs as Piety could raise,
And only vocal with the Maker's praise.
In these lone walls (their days eternal bound)
These mofs-grown domes with fpiry turrets crown'd,
Where awful arches make a noon-day night,
And the dim windows shed a folemn light;
Thy eyes diffus'd a reconciling ray,"
And gleams of glory brighten'd all the day.
But now no face divine contentment wears,
'Tis all blank sadness, or continual tears.
See how the force of others pray'rs I try,
(O pious fraud of am'rous charity!)
VER. 133. You rais'd thefe hallow'd walls;] He founded the
But why should I on others pray'rs depend?
Come thou, my father, brother, husband, friend!
Ah let thy handmaid, fifter, daughter move,
And all those tender names in one, thy love! 154
The darkfome pines that o'er yon rocks reclin'd
Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind,
The wand'ring ftreams 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; 160
No more these scenes my
Or lull to reft the visionary maid.
But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves,
Long-founding ifles, and intermingled graves,
Black Melancholy fits, and round her throws 165
A death-like filence, and a dread repose:
Her gloomy prefence faddens 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.
Yet here for ever, ever muft I ftay; Sad proof how well a lover can obey! Death, only death, can break the lasting chain; And here, ev'n then, fhall my cold dust remain;
Here all its frailties, all its flames refign,
And wait till 'tis no fin to mix with thine.
Ah wretch! believ'd the spouse of God in vain,
Confefs'd within the flave of love and man.
Affift me, heav'n! but whence arose that pray'r?
Sprung it from piety, or from despair? .
Ev'n here, where frozen chastity retires,
Love finds an altar for forbidden fires.
I ought to grieve, but cannot what I ought;
I mourn the lover, not lament the fault;
I view my crime, but kindle at the view,
Repent old pleasures, and follicit new;
Now turn'd to heav'n, I weep my paft offence,
Now think of thee, and curse my innocence.
Of all affliction taught a lover yet,
"Tis fure the hardest science to forget!
How fhall I lose the fin, yet keep the sense,
And love th' offender, yet deteft th' offence?
How the dear object from the crime remove,
Or how distinguish penitence from love?
Unequal task, a paffion to refign,
For hearts so touch'd, fo pierc'd, fo loft as mine!
Ere fuch a foul regains its peaceful state,
How often muft it love, how often hate!
How often hope, despair, refent, regret,
Conceal, difdain, --- 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 love, my life, my my
Fill my fond heart with God alone, for he 205 Alone can rival, can fucceed to thee.
How happy is the blameless Veftal's lot?
The world forgetting, by the world forgot:
Eternal fun-fhine of the spotlefs mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each with refign'd; 219
Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
"Obedient flumbers that can wake and weep;"
Defires compos'd, affections ever ev'n;
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 rofe of Eden blooms,
And wings of Seraphs fhed divine perfumes,
For her the spouse prepares the bridal ring,
For her white virgins Hymemæals fing,
VER. 212. Obedient flumbers, etc.] Taken from Crafhaw. P.
To founds of heav'nly harps the 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 reftores what vengeance snatch'd away,
Then conscience fleeps, and leaving nature free,
All my loose soul unbounded springs to thee.
O curft, dear horrors of all confcious night!
How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight! 230
Provoking Dæmons all restraint remove,
And stir within me ev'ry fource 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, 235
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 close my willing eyes;
Ye foft illufions, dear deceits, arife!
Alas, no more! methinks we wand'ring go
Thro' dreary wastes, and weep each other's woe, Where round fome mould'ring tow'r pale ivy creeps, And low-brow'd rocks hang noddinge er the deeps.