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ARGUMENT.

ABELARD and Eloïfa flourished in the twelfth Century; they were two of the moft diftinguished perfons of their age in learning and beauty, but for nothing more famous than for their unfortunate paffion. After a long course of calamities, they retired each to a feveral Convent, and confecrated the remainder of their days to religion. It was many years after this feparation, that a letter of Abelard's to a Friend, which contained the hiftory of his misfortune, fell into the hands of Eloïfa. This awakening all her tenderness, occafioned those celebrated letters (out of which the following is partly extracted) which give fo lively a picture of the struggles of grace and nature, virtue and paffion.

ELOISA

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A BE L A R D.

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N these deep folitudes and awful cells,

Where heavenly-penfive contemplation dwells,
And ever-mufing melancholy reigns;

What means this tumult in a Veftal's veins ?
Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat?
Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat?
Yet, yet I love!-From Abelard it came,
And Eloïfa yet muft kifs the name.

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,

Her heart ftill dictates, and her hand obeys.

Relentless walls! whofe darkfome round contains

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-eyed virgins keep;
And pitying faints, whofe ftatues learn to weep!
Though cold like you, unmov'd and filent grown,
I have not yet forgot myfelf to flone.

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All is not Heaven's while Abelard has part,

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Still rebel Nature holds out half my heart;

Nor prayers nor fafts its stubborn pulse restrain,
Nor tears for ages taught to flow in vain.

Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose, That well-known name awakens all my woes. Oh name for ever fad! for ever dear!

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Still breath'd in fighs, ftill usher'd with a tear.
I tremble too, where'er my own I find,
Some dire misfortune follows close behind.
Line after line my gushing eyes o'erflow,

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Led through a fad variety of woe:

Now warm in love, now withering in my bloom,
Loft in a convent's folitary gloom!

There ftern Religion quench'd th' unwilling flame,
There dy'd the best of paffions, Love and Fame. 40
Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join
Griefs to thy griefs, and echo fighs to thine.
Nor foes nor fortune take this power away;
And is my Abelard less kind than they?

Tears ftill are mine, and those I need not spare,
Love but demands what else were shed in prayer;
No happier task these faded eyes pursue;
To read and weep is all they now can do.

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Then share thy pain, allow that fad relief;
Ah, more than share it, give me all thy grief.
Heaven firft taught letters for fome wretch's aid,

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Some banish'd lover, or fome captive maid;
They live, they speak, they breathe what love infpires,
Warm from the foul, and faithful to its fires,

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The virgin's wish without her fears impart,
Excuse the blush, and pour out all the heart,
Speed the foft intercourse from foul to foul,
And waft a figh from Indus to the Pole.

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Thou know'ft how guiltless firft I met thy flame, When Love approach'd me under Friendship's name ; My fancy form'd thee of angelic kind,

Some emanation of th' All-beauteous Mind.
Those smiling eyes, attempering every ray,
Shone fweetly lambent with celestial day.

Guiltless I gaz'd; heaven liften'd while you fung; 65
And truths divine came mended from that tongue.
From lips like those what precept fail'd to move?
Too foon they taught me 'twas no fin to love:
Back through the paths of pleafing fenfe I ran,
Nor wish'd an Angel whom I lov'd a Man.
Dim and remote the joys of faints I fee,
Nor envy them that heaven I lose for thee.

How oft, when prefs'd to marriage, have I said,
Curfe on all laws but those which love has made!
Love, free as air, at fight of human ties,
Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.
Let wealth, let honour, wait the wedded dame,
Auguft her deed, and facred be her fame;

Before true paffion all those views remove;

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Fame, wealth, and honour! what are you to Love? 80
The jealous God, when we prophane his fires,
Those restless paffions in revenge inspires,
And bids them make mistaken mortals groan,
Who feck in love for aught but love alone.

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Should at my feet the world's great mafter fall,
Himself, his throne, his world, I 'd fcorn them all:
Not Cæfar's emprefs would I deign to prove;
No, make me miftrefs to the man I love.

If there be yet another name more free,
More fond than mistress, make me that to thee!
Oh! happy state! when fouls each other draw,
When love is liberty, and nature law:
All then is full, poffeffing and poffefs'd,

No craving void left aching in the breast:

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Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part,
And each warm wifh fprings mutual from the heart.
This fure is blifs (if bliss on earth there be)
And once the lot of Abelard and me.

Alas, how chang'd! what fudden 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.
I can no more; by shame, by rage suppress'd,
Let tears and burning blushes speak the reft.

Canft thou forget that fad, that folemn day,
When victims at yon altar's foot we lay?
Canft thou forget what tears that moment fell,

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When, warm in youth, I bade the world farewell? 110
As with cold lips I kifs'd the facred veil,

The shrines all trembled, and the lamps grew pale:
Heaven fcarce believ'd the Conqueft it furvey'd,
And Saints with wonder heard the vows I made.

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