No tears can drive her hence, no pangs control,
For every object brings her to my soul.

Last night reclining on yon airy steep,
My busy eyes hung brooding o'er the deep;
The breathless whirlwinds slept in every cave,
And the soft moon-beam danc'd from wave to wave;
Each former bliss in this bright mirror seen,

With all my glories, dawn'd upon the scene,
Recall'd the dear auspicious hour anew,
When my fond soul to Eloisa flew ;

When, with keen speechless agonies oppress'd,
Thy frantic lover snatch'd thee to his breast;
Gaz'd on thy blushes, arm'd with every grace,
And saw the goddess beaming in thy face;
Saw thy wild, trembling, ardent wishes move
Each pulse to rapture, and each glance to love.
But lo! the winds descend, the billows roar,
Foam to the clouds, and burst upon the shore
Vast peals of thunder o'er the ocean roll,
The flame-wing'd lightning gleams from pole to pole.
At once the pleasing images withdrew,
And more than horrors crowded on my view:
Thy uncle's form, in all his ire array'd,
Serenely dreadful, stalk'd along the shade:
Pierc'd by his sword I sunk upon the ground,
The spectre ghastly smil'd upon the wound:
A group of black infernals round me hung,
And toss'd my infamy from tongue to tongue.
Detested wretch! how impotent thy age!
How weak thy malice! and how kind thy rage:
Spite of thyself, inhuman as thou art,
Thy murdering hand has left me all my heart:
Left me each tender, fond affection warm,
A nerve to tremble, and an eye to charm.
Dd

VOL. XXIV.

No, cruel, cruel, exquisite in ill;
Thou thought'st it dull barbarity to kill;
My death had robb'd lost vengeance of her toil,
And scarcely warm'd a Scythian to a smile:
Sublimer furies taught thy soul to glow
With all their savage mysteries of woe:
Taught thy unfeeling poniard to destroy
The powers of nature, and the source of joy;
To stretch me on the racks of vain desire,
Each passion throbbing, and each wish on fire:
Mad to enjoy, unable to be bless'd,

Fiends in my veins, and hell within my breast.

Aid me, fair faith! assist me, grace divine!
Ye martyrs! bless me; and, ye saints! refine:
Ye sacred groves! ye heaven-devoted walls!
Where folly sickens, and where virtue calls:
Ye vows! ye altars! from this bosom tear
Voluptuous love, and leave no anguish there:
Oblivion! be thy blackest plume display'd
O'er all my griefs, and hide me in the shade;
And thou, too fondly idoliz'd! attend
While awful reason whispers in the friend.
Friend, did I say? Immortals! what a name!
Can dull, cold friendship, own so wild a flame?
No; let thy lover, whose enkindling eye
Shot all his soul between thee and the sky,

[song

Whose warmth bewitch'd thee, whose unhallow'd Call'd thy rapt ear to die upon his tongue,

Now strongly rouse, while Heaven his zeal inspires,
Diviner transports, and more holy fires;
Calm all thy passions, all thy peace restore,
And teach that snowy breast to heave no more.
Torn from the world, within dark cells immur'd,

By angels guarded, and by vows secur'd;

To all that once awoke thy fondness dead,
And hope, pale sorrow's last sad refuge, fled;
Why wilt thou weep, and sigh, and melt in vain,
Brood o'er false joys, and hug the' ideal chain?
Say, canst thou wish that, madly wild to fly
From yon bright portal opening in the sky,
Thy Abelard should bid his God adieu,

Pant at thy feet, and taste thy charms anew?
Ye heavens! if, to this tender bosom woo'd,
Thy mere idea harrows up my blood;
If one faint glimpse of Eloise can move
The fiercest, mildest agonies of love:
What shall I be, when, dazzling as the light,
Thy whole effulgence flows upon my sight?
Look on thyself, consider who thou art,
And learn to be an abbess in thy heart:
See, while devotion's ever-melting strain
Pours the loud organ through the trembling fane,
Yon pious maids each earthly wish disown,
Kiss the dread cross, and crowd upon the throne:
O let thy soul the sacred charge attend,

Their warmth inspirit, and their virtues mend:
Teach every breast from every hymn to steal
The cherub's meekness, and the seraph's zeal;
To rise to rapture, to dissolve away

In dreams of heaven, and lead thyself the way;
Till all the glories of the bless'd abode
Blaze on the scene, and every thought is God.
While thus thy exemplary cares prevail,
And make each vestal spotless as her veil,
The' eternal spirit o'er thy cell shall move
In the soft image of the mystic dove;
The longest gleams of heavenly comfort bring,
Peace in his smile, and healing on his wing;

At once remove affliction from thy breast,
Melt o'er thy soul, and hush her pangs to rest.

O that my soul, from love's curs'd bondage free,
Could catch the transports that I urge to thee!
O that some angel's more than magic art
Would kindly tear the hermit from his heart!
Extinguish every guilty sense, and leave
No pulse to riot, and no sigh to heave.

Vain, fruitless wish! still, still the vigorous flame Bursts, like an earthquake, through my shatter'd frame;

Spite of the joys that truth and virtue prove,
I feel but thee, and breathe not but to love;
Repent in vain, scarce wish to be forgiv❜n,
Thy form my idol, and thy charms my heav'n.
Yet, yet, my fair! thy nobler efforts try,
Lift me from earth, and give me to the sky;
Let my lost soul thy brighter virtues feel,
Warm'd with thy hopes, and wing'd with all thy zeal.
And when, low-bending at the hallow'd shrine,
Thy contrite heart shall Abelard resign;
When pitying Heaven, impatient to forgive,
Unbars the gates of light and bids thee live :
Seize on the' auspicious moment ere it flee,
And ask the same immortal boon for me!

Then when these black terrific scenes are o'er,
And rebel nature chills the soul no more;
When on thy cheek the' expiring roses fade,
And thy last lustres darken in the shade;
When arm'd with quick varieties of pain,
Or creeping dully slow from vein to vein,
Pale death shall set my kindred-spirit free,
And these dead orbs forget to doat on thee;

Some pious friend, whose wild affections glow
Like ours in sad similitude of woe,
Shall drop one tender, sympathizing tear,
Prepare the garland, and adorn the bier;
Our lifeless relics in one tomb enshrine,
And teach thy genial dust to mix with mine.

Meanwhile, divinely purg'd from every stain,
Our active souls shall climb the' ethereal plain
To each bright cherub's purity aspire,

Catch all his zeal, and pant with all his fire;
There, where no face the glooms of anguish wears,
No uncle murders, and no passion tears,
Enjoy with heaven eternity of rest;
For ever blessing, and for ever bless'd.

ELEGY

TO THE MEMORY OF CAPTAIN HUGHES;

A particular Friend of the Author's.

VAIN were the task to give the soul to glow,
The nerve to kindle, and the verse to flow;
When the fond mourner, hid from every eye,
Bleeds in the anguish of too keen a sigh;
And, lost to glory, lost to all his fire,
Forgets the poet, ere he grasps the lyre.

Friendship! 'tis thine with manly warmth to

Expiring virtue, and the closing urn;

[mourn To teach, dear seraph! o'er the good and wise The dirge to murmur, and the bust to rise. Come then, O guiltless of the tear of art! Sprung from the sky, and thron'd within the heart! O come, in all the pomp of grief array'd, And weep the warrior, while I grace his shade.