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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341055" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Eloisa to Abelard</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In these deep solitudes and awful cells, <br>Where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells,<br>And ever-musing melancholy reigns;<br>What means this tumult in a vestal's veins?<br>Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat?<br>Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat?<br>Yet, yet I love!--From Abelard it came,<br>And Eloisa yet must kiss the name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd,<br>Nor pass these lips in holy silence seal'd.<br>Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise,<br>Where mix'd with God's, his lov'd idea lies:<br>O write it not, my hand--the name appears<br>Already written--wash it out, my tears!<br>In vain lost Eloisa weeps and prays,<br>Her heart still dictates, and her hand obeys.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Relentless walls! whose darksome round contains<br>Repentant sighs, and voluntary pains:<br>Ye rugged rocks! which holy knees have worn;<br>Ye grots and caverns shagg'd with horrid thorn!<br>Shrines! where their vigils pale-ey'd virgins keep,<br>And pitying saints, whose statues learn to weep!<br>Though cold like you, unmov'd, and silent grown,<br>I have not yet forgot myself to stone.<br>All is not Heav'n's while Abelard has part,<br>Still rebel nature holds out half my heart;<br>Nor pray'rs nor fasts its stubborn pulse restrain,<br>Nor tears, for ages, taught to flow in vain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose,<br>That well-known name awakens all my woes.<br>Oh name for ever sad! for ever dear!<br>Still breath'd in sighs, still usher'd with a tear.<br>I tremble too, where'er my own I find,<br>Some dire misfortune follows close behind.<br>Line after line my gushing eyes o'erflow,<br>Led through a sad variety of woe:<br>Now warm in love, now with'ring in thy bloom,<br>Lost in a convent's solitary gloom!<br>There stern religion quench'd th' unwilling flame,<br>There died the best of passions, love and fame.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join<br>Griefs to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine.<br>Nor foes nor fortune take this pow'r away;<br>And is my Abelard less kind than they?<br>Tears still are mine, and those I need not spare,<br>Love but demands what else were shed in pray'r;<br>No happier task these faded eyes pursue;<br>To read and weep is all they now can do.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then share thy pain, allow that sad relief;<br>Ah, more than share it! give me all thy grief.<br>Heav'n first taught letters for some wretch's aid,<br>Some banish'd lover, or some captive maid;<br>They live, they speak, they breathe what love inspires,<br>Warm from the soul, and faithful to its fires,<br>The virgin's wish without her fears impart,<br>Excuse the blush, and pour out all the heart,<br>Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul,<br>And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou know'st how guiltless first I met thy flame,<br>When Love approach'd me under Friendship's name;<br>My fancy form'd thee of angelic kind,<br>Some emanation of th' all-beauteous Mind.<br>Those smiling eyes, attemp'ring ev'ry day,<br>Shone sweetly lambent with celestial day.<br>Guiltless I gaz'd; heav'n listen'd while you sung;<br>And truths divine came mended from that tongue.<br>From lips like those what precept fail'd to move?<br>Too soon they taught me 'twas no sin to love.<br>Back through the paths of pleasing sense I ran,<br>Nor wish'd an Angel whom I lov'd a Man.<br>Dim and remote the joys of saints I see;<br>Nor envy them, that heav'n I lose for thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How oft, when press'd to marriage, have I said,<br>Curse on all laws but those which love has made!<br>Love, free as air, at sight of human ties,<br>Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies,<br>Let wealth, let honour, wait the wedded dame,<br>August her deed, and sacred be her fame;<br>Before true passion all those views remove,<br>Fame, wealth, and honour! what are you to Love?<br>The jealous God, when we profane his fires,<br>Those restless passions in revenge inspires;<br>And bids them make mistaken mortals groan,<br>Who seek in love for aught but love alone.<br>Should at my feet the world's great master fall,<br>Himself, his throne, his world, I'd scorn 'em all:<br>Not Caesar's empress would I deign to prove;<br>No, make me mistress to the man I love;<br>If there be yet another name more free,<br>More fond than mistress, make me that to thee!<br>Oh happy state! when souls each other draw,<br>When love is liberty, and nature, law:<br>All then is full, possessing, and possess'd,<br>No craving void left aching in the breast:<br>Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part,<br>And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart.<br>This sure is bliss (if bliss on earth there be)<br>And once the lot of Abelard and me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alas, how chang'd! what sudden horrors rise!<br>A naked lover bound and bleeding lies!<br>Where, where was Eloise? her voice, her hand,<br>Her poniard, had oppos'd the dire command.<br>Barbarian, stay! that bloody stroke restrain;<br>The crime was common, common be the pain.<br>I can no more; by shame, by rage suppress'd,<br>Let tears, and burning blushes speak the rest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Canst thou forget that sad, that solemn day,<br>When victims at yon altar's foot we lay?<br>Canst thou forget what tears that moment fell,<br>When, warm in youth, I bade the world farewell?<br>As with cold lips I kiss'd the sacred veil,<br>The shrines all trembl'd, and the lamps grew pale:<br>Heav'n scarce believ'd the conquest it survey'd,<br>And saints with wonder heard the vows I made.<br>Yet then, to those dread altars as I drew,<br>Not on the Cross my eyes were fix'd, but you:<br>Not grace, or zeal, love only was my call,<br>And if I lose thy love, I lose my all.<br>Come! with thy looks, thy words, relieve my woe;<br>Those still at least are left thee to bestow.<br>Still on that breast enamour'd let me lie,<br>Still drink delicious poison from thy eye,<br>Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be press'd;<br>Give all thou canst--and let me dream the rest.<br>Ah no! instruct me other joys to prize,<br>With other beauties charm my partial eyes,<br>Full in my view set all the bright abode,<br>And make my soul quit Abelard for God.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah, think at least thy flock deserves thy care,<br>Plants of thy hand, and children of thy pray'r.<br>From the false world in early youth they fled,<br>By thee to mountains, wilds, and deserts led.<br>You rais'd these hallow'd walls; the desert smil'd,<br>And Paradise was open'd in the wild.<br>No weeping orphan saw his father's stores<br>Our shrines irradiate, or emblaze the floors;<br>No silver saints, by dying misers giv'n,<br>Here brib'd the rage of ill-requited heav'n:<br>But such plain roofs as piety could raise,<br>And only vocal with the Maker's praise.<br>In these lone walls (their days eternal bound)<br>These moss-grown domes with spiry turrets crown'd,<br>Where awful arches make a noonday night,<br>And the dim windows shed a solemn light;<br>Thy eyes diffus'd a reconciling ray,<br>And gleams of glory brighten'd all the day.<br>But now no face divine contentment wears,<br>'Tis all blank sadness, or continual tears.<br>See how the force of others' pray'rs I try,<br>(O pious fraud of am'rous charity!)<br>But why should I on others' pray'rs depend?<br>Come thou, my father, brother, husband, friend!<br>Ah let thy handmaid, sister, daughter move,<br>And all those tender names in one, thy love!<br>The darksome pines that o'er yon rocks reclin'd<br>Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind,<br>The wand'ring streams that shine between the hills,<br>The grots that echo to the tinkling rills,<br>The dying gales that pant upon the trees,<br>The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze;<br>No more these scenes my meditation aid,<br>Or lull to rest the visionary maid.<br>But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves,<br>Long-sounding aisles, and intermingled graves,<br>Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws<br>A death-like silence, and a dread repose:<br>Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene,<br>Shades ev'ry flow'r, and darkens ev'ry green,<br>Deepens the murmur of the falling floods,<br>And breathes a browner horror on the woods.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet here for ever, ever must I stay;<br>Sad proof how well a lover can obey!<br>Death, only death, can break the lasting chain;<br>And here, ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain,<br>Here all its frailties, all its flames resign,<br>And wait till 'tis no sin to mix with thine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah wretch! believ'd the spouse of God in vain,<br>Confess'd within the slave of love and man.<br>Assist me, Heav'n! but whence arose that pray'r?<br>Sprung it from piety, or from despair?<br>Ev'n here, where frozen chastity retires,<br>Love finds an altar for forbidden fires.<br>I ought to grieve, but cannot what I ought;<br>I mourn the lover, not lament the fault;<br>I view my crime, but kindle at the view,<br>Repent old pleasures, and solicit new;<br>Now turn'd to Heav'n, I weep my past offence,<br>Now think of thee, and curse my innocence.<br>Of all affliction taught a lover yet,<br>'Tis sure the hardest science to forget!<br>How shall I lose the sin, yet keep the sense,<br>And love th' offender, yet detest th' offence?<br>How the dear object from the crime remove,<br>Or how distinguish penitence from love?<br>Unequal task! a passion to resign,<br>For hearts so touch'd, so pierc'd, so lost as mine.<br>Ere such a soul regains its peaceful state,<br>How often must it love, how often hate!<br>How often hope, despair, resent, regret,<br>Conceal, disdain--do all things but forget.<br>But let Heav'n seize it, all at once 'tis fir'd;<br>Not touch'd, but rapt; not waken'd, but inspir'd!<br>Oh come! oh teach me nature to subdue,<br>Renounce my love, my life, myself--and you.<br>Fill my fond heart with God alone, for he<br>Alone can rival, can succeed to thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!<br>The world forgetting, by the world forgot.<br>Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!<br>Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;<br>Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;<br>&quot;Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep;&quot;<br>Desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n,<br>Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heav'n.<br>Grace shines around her with serenest beams,<br>And whisp'ring angels prompt her golden dreams.<br>For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms,<br>And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes,<br>For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,<br>For her white virgins hymeneals sing,<br>To sounds of heav'nly harps she dies away,<br>And melts in visions of eternal day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Far other dreams my erring soul employ,<br>Far other raptures, of unholy joy:<br>When at the close of each sad, sorrowing day,<br>Fancy restores what vengeance snatch'd away,<br>Then conscience sleeps, and leaving nature free,<br>All my loose soul unbounded springs to thee.<br>Oh curs'd, dear horrors of all-conscious night!<br>How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight!<br>Provoking Daemons all restraint remove,<br>And stir within me every source of love.<br>I hear thee, view thee, gaze o'er all thy charms,<br>And round thy phantom glue my clasping arms.<br>I wake--no more I hear, no more I view,<br>The phantom flies me, as unkind as you.<br>I call aloud; it hears not what I say;<br>I stretch my empty arms; it glides away.<br>To dream once more I close my willing eyes;<br>Ye soft illusions, dear deceits, arise!<br>Alas, no more--methinks we wand'ring go<br>Through dreary wastes, and weep each other's woe,<br>Where round some mould'ring tower pale ivy creeps,<br>And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps.<br>Sudden you mount, you beckon from the skies;<br>Clouds interpose, waves roar, and winds arise.<br>I shriek, start up, the same sad prospect find,<br>And wake to all the griefs I left behind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For thee the fates, severely kind, ordain<br>A cool suspense from pleasure and from pain;<br>Thy life a long, dead calm of fix'd repose;<br>No pulse that riots, and no blood that glows.<br>Still as the sea, ere winds were taught to blow,<br>Or moving spirit bade the waters flow;<br>Soft as the slumbers of a saint forgiv'n,<br>And mild as opening gleams of promis'd heav'n.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Come, Abelard! for what hast thou to dread?<br>The torch of Venus burns not for the dead.<br>Nature stands check'd; Religion disapproves;<br>Ev'n thou art cold--yet Eloisa loves.<br>Ah hopeless, lasting flames! like those that burn<br>To light the dead, and warm th' unfruitful urn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What scenes appear where'er I turn my view?<br>The dear ideas, where I fly, pursue,<br>Rise in the grove, before the altar rise,<br>Stain all my soul, and wanton in my eyes.<br>I waste the matin lamp in sighs for thee,<br>Thy image steals between my God and me,<br>Thy voice I seem in ev'ry hymn to hear,<br>With ev'ry bead I drop too soft a tear.<br>When from the censer clouds of fragrance roll,<br>And swelling organs lift the rising soul,<br>One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight,<br>Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight:<br>In seas of flame my plunging soul is drown'd,<br>While altars blaze, and angels tremble round.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">While prostrate here in humble grief I lie,<br>Kind, virtuous drops just gath'ring in my eye,<br>While praying, trembling, in the dust I roll,<br>And dawning grace is op'ning on my soul:<br>Come, if thou dar'st, all charming as thou art!<br>Oppose thyself to Heav'n; dispute my heart;<br>Come, with one glance of those deluding eyes<br>Blot out each bright idea of the skies;<br>Take back that grace, those sorrows, and those tears;<br>Take back my fruitless penitence and pray'rs;<br>Snatch me, just mounting, from the blest abode;<br>Assist the fiends, and tear me from my God!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No, fly me, fly me, far as pole from pole;<br>Rise Alps between us! and whole oceans roll!<br>Ah, come not, write not, think not once of me,<br>Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee.<br>Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign;<br>Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine.<br>Fair eyes, and tempting looks (which yet I view!)<br>Long lov'd, ador'd ideas, all adieu!<br>Oh Grace serene! oh virtue heav'nly fair!<br>Divine oblivion of low-thoughted care!<br>Fresh blooming hope, gay daughter of the sky!<br>And faith, our early immortality!<br>Enter, each mild, each amicable guest;<br>Receive, and wrap me in eternal rest!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">See in her cell sad Eloisa spread,<br>Propp'd on some tomb, a neighbour of the dead.<br>In each low wind methinks a spirit calls,<br>And more than echoes talk along the walls.<br>Here, as I watch'd the dying lamps around,<br>From yonder shrine I heard a hollow sound.<br>&quot;Come, sister, come!&quot; (it said, or seem'd to say)<br>&quot;Thy place is here, sad sister, come away!<br>Once like thyself, I trembled, wept, and pray'd,<br>Love's victim then, though now a sainted maid:<br>But all is calm in this eternal sleep;<br>Here grief forgets to groan, and love to weep,<br>Ev'n superstition loses ev'ry fear:<br>For God, not man, absolves our frailties here.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I come, I come! prepare your roseate bow'rs,<br>Celestial palms, and ever-blooming flow'rs.<br>Thither, where sinners may have rest, I go,<br>Where flames refin'd in breasts seraphic glow:<br>Thou, Abelard! the last sad office pay,<br>And smooth my passage to the realms of day;<br>See my lips tremble, and my eye-balls roll,<br>Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul!<br>Ah no--in sacred vestments may'st thou stand,<br>The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand,<br>Present the cross before my lifted eye,<br>Teach me at once, and learn of me to die.<br>Ah then, thy once-lov'd Eloisa see!<br>It will be then no crime to gaze on me.<br>See from my cheek the transient roses fly!<br>See the last sparkle languish in my eye!<br>Till ev'ry motion, pulse, and breath be o'er;<br>And ev'n my Abelard be lov'd no more.<br>O Death all-eloquent! you only prove<br>What dust we dote on, when 'tis man we love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then too, when fate shall thy fair frame destroy,<br>(That cause of all my guilt, and all my joy)<br>In trance ecstatic may thy pangs be drown'd,<br>Bright clouds descend, and angels watch thee round,<br>From op'ning skies may streaming glories shine,<br>And saints embrace thee with a love like mine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">May one kind grave unite each hapless name,<br>And graft my love immortal on thy fame!<br>Then, ages hence, when all my woes are o'er,<br>When this rebellious heart shall beat no more;<br>If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings<br>To Paraclete's white walls and silver springs,<br>O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads,<br>And drink the falling tears each other sheds;<br>Then sadly say, with mutual pity mov'd,<br>&quot;Oh may we never love as these have lov'd!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From the full choir when loud Hosannas rise,<br>And swell the pomp of dreadful sacrifice,<br>Amid that scene if some relenting eye<br>Glance on the stone where our cold relics lie,<br>Devotion's self shall steal a thought from Heav'n,<br>One human tear shall drop and be forgiv'n.<br>And sure, if fate some future bard shall join<br>In sad similitude of griefs to mine,<br>Condemn'd whole years in absence to deplore,<br>And image charms he must behold no more;<br>Such if there be, who loves so long, so well;<br>Let him our sad, our tender story tell;<br>The well-sung woes will soothe my pensive ghost;<br>He best can paint 'em, who shall feel 'em most.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alexander+Pope">Alexander Pope</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341055" data-title="Eloisa to Abelard de Alexander Pope" data-description="In these deep solitudes and awful cells, 
Where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells,
And ever-musing melancholy reigns;
What means this tumult in a vestal's veins?
Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat?
Why feels my heart its long-forgot..."></div>
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