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to the ancient Greek, and his departure from the commenced, and probably finished, the most highly nice discrimination of character and speech which poetical and passionate of his works, the Epistle prevails in Homer, are faults now universally ad-from Eloisa to Abelard. The delicacy of the poet in mitted. Cowper (though he failed himself in Homer) veiling over the circumstances of the story, and at justly remarks, that the Iliad and Odyssey in Pope's the same time preserving the ardour of Eloisa's hands have no more the air of antiquity than if he passion, the beauty of his imagery and descriptions, had himself invented them. The success of the the exquisite melody of his versification, rising and Iliad led to the translation of the Odyssey ; but Pope falling like the tones of an Eolian harp, as he succalled in his friends Broome and Fenton as assistants. cessively portrays the tumults of guilty love, the These two coadjutors translated twelve books, and deepest penitence, and the highest devotional rapthe notes were compiled by Broome. Fenton re- ture, have never been surpassed. If less genial ceived £300, and Broome £500, while Pope had tastes and a love of satire withdrew Pope from those £2885, 5s. The Homeric labours occupied a period fountain-springs of the Muse, it was obviously from of twelve years—from 1713 to 1725. The improve- no want of power in the poet to display the richest ment of his pecuniary resources enabled the poet to hues of imagination, or the finest impulses of the remove from the shades of Windsor Forest to a human mind. The next literary undertaking of situation nearer the metropolis. He purchased a our author was an edition of Shakspeare, in which lease of a house and grounds at Twickenham, to he attempted, with but indifferent success, to esta

blish the text of the mighty poet, and explain his
obscurities. In 1733, he published his Essay on Man,
being part of a course of moral philosophy in verse
which he projected. The • Essay’ is now read, not
for its philosophy, but for its poetry. Its meta-
physical distinctions are neglected for those splen-
did passages and striking incidents which irradiate
the poem. In lines like the following, he speaks with
a mingled sweetness and dignity superior to his
great master Dryden :-
Hope springs eternal in the human breast :
Man never is, but always to be blest.
The soul, uneasy and confined, from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come.
Lo! the poor Indian, whose untutored mind
Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind ;
His soul, proud science never taught to stray
Far as the solar walk or milky way;
Yet simple nature to his hope has given
Behind the cloud-topped hill a humbler heaven ;
Some safer world in depth of woods embraced,
Some happier island in the watery waste,
Where slaves once more their native land behold,
No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold.
To be, contents his natural desire,
He asks no angel's wing, no seraph's fire ;
But thinks, admitted to that equal sky,

His faithful dog shall bear him company. Pope's Villa, Twickenham. which he removed with his father and mother, and Good, Pleasure, Ease, Content, whate'er thy name;

Oh Happiness ! our being's end and aim, where he continued to reside during the remainder That something still which prompts the eternal sigh, of his life. This classic spot, which Pope delighted For which we bear to live, or dare to die, to improve, and where he was visited by ministers Which, still so near us, yet beyond us lies, of state, wits, poets, and beauties, is now greatly O'erlooked, seen double, by the fool, and wise ! defaced.* Whilst on a visit to Oxford in 1716, Pope Plant of celestial seed !'if dropped below,

* Pope's house was not large, but sufficiently commodious Say, in what mortal soil thou deign'st to grow! for the wants of an English gentleman whose friends visited Fair opening to some court's propitious shine, himself rather than his dwelling, and who were superior to the Or deep with diamonds in the flaming mine? necessity of stately ceremonials

. On one side it fronted to Twined with the wreaths Parnassian laurels yield, the road, which it closely adjoined ; on the other, to a narrow

Or reaped in iron harvests of the field ? lawn sloping to the Thames. A piece of pleasure-ground, including a garden, was cut off by the public road; an awkward side ones are of the character of grottos, paved with square and unpoetical arrangement, which the proprietor did his best bricks, and stuck over with shells. It is curious to find over to improve. After the poet's death, the villa was purchased by the central stone of the entrance into the left of these grottos, Sir William Stanhope, and subsequently by Lord Mendip, who a large ammonite, and over the other, the piece of hardened carefully preserved everything connected with it; but, being in clay in which its cast was left. Pope must have regarded these 1807 sold to the Baroness Howe, it was by that lady taken merely as curiosities, or lusus naturæ, little dreaming of the down, that a larger house might be built near its site. Now wonderful tale of the early condition of our globe which they (1843), the place is the property of —- Young, Esq. ; the second assist in telling. A short narrow piazza in front of the grottos house has been enlarged into two, and further alterations are is probably the evening colonnade' of the lines on the absence contemplated. The grounds have suffered a complete change of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. The taste with which Pope since Pope's time, and a monument which he erected to his laid out his grounds at Twickenham (five acres in all), had a mother on a hillock at their further extremity has been re-marked effect on English landscape gardening. The Prince of moved. The only certain remnants of the poet's mansion are Wales took the design of his garden from the poet's; and Kent, the vaults upon which it was built, three in number, the the improver and embellisher of pleasure grounds, received his central one being connected with a tunnel, which, passing best lessons from Pope. He aided materially in banishing the under the road, gives admission to the rear grounds, while the stiff formal Dutch style.



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Where grows !--where grows it not? If rain our toil, The anticipated approach of the Pretender led the We ought to blame the culture, not the soil. government to issue a proclamation prohibiting every Fixed to no spot is Happiness sincere ;

Roman Catholic from appearing within ten miles of 'Tis nowhere to be found, or everywhere ;

London. The poet complied with the proclamation; 'Tis never to be bought, but always free,

and he was soon afterwards too ill to be in town. And fled from monarchs, St John! dwells with thee. This additional proclamation from the Highest of Ask of the learned the way! The learned are blind; all Powers,' as he terms his sickness, he submitted This bids to serve, and that to shun mankind; to without murmuring. A constant state of exciteSome place the bliss in action, some in ease ; ment, added to a life of ceaseless study and contemThose call it pleasure, and contentment these; plation, operating on a frame naturally delicate and Some sunk to beasts, find pleasure end in pain; deformed from birth, had completely exhausted the Some swelled to gods, confess even virtue vain ; powers of Pope. He complained of his inability to Or indolent, to each extreme they fall,

think; yet, a short time before his death, he said, 'I To trust in everything, or doubt of all.

am so certain of the soul's being immortal, that Pope's future labours were chiefly confined to seem to feel it within me as it were by intuition.' satire. In 1727 he published, in conjunction with Another of his dying remarks was, . There is nothing his friend Swift, three volumes of Miscellanies, in that is meritorious but virtue and friendship; and, prose and verse, which drew down upon the authors indeed, friendship itself is only a part of virtue.' He a torrent of invective. lampoons, and libels, and died at Twickenham on the 30th of May, 17H. ultimately led to the Dunciad, by Pope. This ela

The character and genius of Pope have given rise borate and splendid satire displays the fertile inven- to abundance of comment and speculation. The tion of the poet, the variety of his illustration, and occasional fierceness and petulance of his satire canthe unrivalled force and facility of his diction; not be justified, even by the coarse attacks of his but it is now read with a feeling more allied to pity opponents, and must be ascribed to his extreme than admiration-pity that one so highly gifted sensibility, to over-indulged vanity, and to a hasty should have allowed himself to descend to things so and irritable temper. His sickly constitution du barmean, and devote the end of a great literary life to ring him from active pursuits, he placed too high a the infliction of retributary pain on every humble value on mere literary fame, and was deficient in aspirant in the world of letters. I have often the manly virtues of sincerity and candour. At the wondered,' says Cowper, that the same poet who same time he was a public benefactor, by stigmatiswrote the “Dunciad” should have written these ing the vices of the great, and lashing the absurd lines

pretenders to taste and literature. He was a fond

and steady friend ; and in all our literary biography, That mercy I to others show,

there is nothing fiver than his constant undeviating That mercy show to me.

affection and reverence for his venerable parents. Alas for Pope, if the mercy he showed to others was Me let the tender office long engage, the measure of the mercy he received.' Sir Walter To rock the cradle of reposing age; Scott has justly remarked, that Pope must have With lenient arts extend a mother's breath, suffered the most from these wretched contentions. Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of death ; It is known that his temper was ultimately much Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, changed for the worse. Misfortunes were also now And keep at least one parent from the sky, gathering round him. Swift was fast verging on insanity, and was lost to the world ; Atterbury and

Prologue to the Satires. Gay died in 1732 ; and next year his venerable As a poet, it would be absurd to rank Pope with the mother, whose declining years he had watched with greatest masters of the lyre; with the universality of affectionate solicitude, also expired. Between the Shakspeare, or the sublimity of Milton. He was years 1733 and 1740, Pope published his inimitable undoubtedly more the poet of artificial life and manEpistles. Satires, and Moral Essays, addressed to his ners than the poet of nature. He was a nice observer friends Bolingbroke, Bathurst, Arbuthnot, &c., and and an accurate describer of the phenomena of the containing the most noble and generous sentiments, mind, and of the varying shades and gradations of mixed up with withering invective and the fiercest vice and virtue, wisdom and folly. He was too fond denunciations. In 1742 he added a fourth book to of point and antithesis, but the polish of the weapon the ‘Dunciad,' displaying the final advent of the god was equalled by its keenness. Let us look,' says dess to destroy order and science, and to substitute Campbell, 'to the spirit that points his antithesis, the kingdom of the dull upon earth. The point of and to the rapid precision of his thoughts, and we his individual satire, and the richness and boldness shall forgive him for being too antithetic and senof his general design, attest the undiminished powers tentious.' His wit, fancy, and good sense, are as and intense feeling of the poet. Next year Pope remarkable as his satire. His elegance has never prepared a new edition of the four books of the been surpassed, or perhaps equalled: it is a combiDunciad,' and elevated Colley Cibber to the situa- nation of intellect, imagination, and taste, under the tion of hero of the poem. This unenviable honour direction of an independent spirit and refined moral had previously been enjoyed by Theobald, a tasteless feeling. If he had studied more in the school of critic and commentator on Shakspeare; but in thus nature and of Shakspeare, and less in the school of yielding to his personal dislike of Cibber, Pope in- | Horace and Boileau; if he had cherished the frame jured the force of his satire. The laureate, as War- and spirit in which he composed the · Elegy' and ton justly remarks, with a great stock of levity, the Eloisa,' and forgot his too exclusive devotion vanity, and affectation, had sense, and wit, and to that which inspired the 'Dunciad,' the world humour ; and the author of the “ Careless Husband" would have hallowed his memory with a still more was by no means a proper king of the dunces.' Cib. affectionate and permanent interest than even that ber was all vivacity and conceit—the very reverse which waits on him as one of our most brilliant of personified dulness,

and accomplished English poets. Sinking from thought to thought, a vast profound.

Mr Campbell in his ‘Specimens'has given an elo

quent estimate of the general powers of Pope, with Political events came in the rear of this accumulated reference to his position as a poet:- That Pope was and vehement satire to agitate the last days of Pope. neither so insensible to the beauties of nature, nor

so indistinct in describing them, as to forget the Rapt into future times, the bard begun : character of a genuine poet, is what I mean to urge, A Virgin shall conceive, a Virgin bear a Son! without exaggerating his picturesqueness. But be- From Jesse's root behold a branch arise, fore speaking of that quality in his writings, I would Whose sacred flower with fragrance fills the skies : beg leave to observe, in the first place, that the fa- The ethereal spirit o’er its leaves shall move, culty by which a poet luminously describes objects of And on its top descends the mystic Dove. art, is essentially the same faculty which enables him Yc heavens ! from high the dewy nectar pour, to be a faithful describer of simple nature; in the se- And in soft silence shed the kindly shower. cond place, that nature and art are to a greater degree The sick and weak the healing plant shall aid, relative terms in poetical description than is generally From storus a shelter, and from heat a shade. recollected; and thirdly, that artificial objects and All crimes shall cease, and ancient frauds snall fail; manners are of so much importance in fiction, as to Returning Justice lift aloft her scale; make the exquisite description of them no less cha- Peace o'er the world her olive wand extend, racteristic of genius than the description of simple And white-rubed Innocence from heaven descend. physical appearances. The poet is “ creation's heir." Swift fly the years, and rise the expected morn! İle deepens our social interest in existence. It is Oh, spring to light, auspicious Babe, be born! surely by the liveliness of the interest which he ex- See, nature hastes her earliest wreaths to bring, cites in existence, and not by the class of subjects with all the incense of the breathing spring ! which he chooses, that we most fairly appreciate the See lofty Lebanon his head advance ! genius or the life of life which is in him. It is no See nodding forests on the mountains dance ! irreverence to the external charms of nature to say, See spicy clouds from lowly Sharon rise, that they are not more important to a poet's study And Carmel's flowery top perfume the skies ! than the manners and affections of his species. Hark! a glad voice the lonely desert cheers; Nature is the poet's goddess; but by nature, no one Prepare the way! a God, a God appears ! rightly understands her mere inanimate face, how-A God, a God! the vocal hills reply; ever charming it may be, or the simple landscape- The rocks proclaim the approaching Deity. painting of trees, clouds, precipices, and flowers. Lo! earth receives him from the bending skies ; Why, tlien, try Pope, or any other poet, exclusively Sink down, ye mountains; and ye valleys rise; by his powers of describing inanimate phenomena? With heads declined, ye cedars homage pay; Nature, in the wide and proper sense of the word. Be smooth, ye rocks: ye rapid floods, give way! means life in all its circumstances-nature, moral The Saviour comes ! by ancient bards foretold : as well as external. As the subject of inspired fic- Hear him, ye deaf: and all ye blind, behold!

He from thick films shall purge the visual ray, tion, nature includes artificial forms and manners. Richardson is no less a painter of nature than Homer. "Tis he the obstructed paths of sound shall clear,

And on the sightless eyeball pour the day : Homer himself is a minute describer of works of And bid new music charm the unfolding ear : art; and Milton is full of imagery derived from it. The dumb shall sing, the lame his crutch forego, Satan's spear is compared to the pine, that makes And leap exulting like the bounding roe. " the mast of some great ammiral;” and his shield is No sigh, no murmur, the wide world shall hear ; like the moon, but like the moon artificially seen through the glass of the Tuscan artist. The spirit. In adamantine chains shall death be bound,

From every face he wipes off every tear. stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, the royal banner, And hell's grim tyrant feel the eternal wound. and all the quality, pride, pomp, and circumstance of As the good shepherd tends his fleecy care, glorious war,” are all artificial images. When Shak: Seeks freshest pasture, and the purest air ; speare groups into one view the most sublime objects Explores the lost, the wandering sheep directs, of the universe, he fixes on the cloud-capt towers, Ry day o'ersees them, and by night protects ; the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples.". Those The tender lambs he raises in his arms, who have ever witnessed the spectacle of the launch- Feeds from his hand and in his bosom warms ; ing of a ship of the line, will perhaps forgive me for Thus shall mankind his guardian care engage, adding this to the examples of the sublime objects The promised father of the future age. of artificial life. Of that spectacle I can never forget No more shall nation against nation rise, the impression, and of having witnessed it reflected Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes; from the faces of ten thousand spectators. They Nor fields with gleaming steel be covered o'er, seem yet before me. I sympathise with their deep The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more : and silent expectation, and with their final burst of But useless lances into scythes shall bend, enthusiasm. It was not a vulgar joy, but an affect. And the broad falchion in a ploughshare end. ing national solemnity. When the vast bulwark Then palaces shall rise ; the joyful son sprang from her cradle, the calm water on which shall finish what his short-lived sire begun ; she swung majestically round, gave the imagination Their vines a shadow to their race shall yield, a contrast of the stormy element in which she was And the same hand that sowed, shall reap the field boon to ride. All the days of battle and nights of The swain in barren deserts with surprise danger which she had to encounter, all the ends of Sees lilies spring, and sudden verdure rise ; the earth which she had to visit, and all that she and starts, amidst the thirsty wilds to hear had to do and to suffer for her country, rose in awful New falls of water murmuring in his ear. presentiment before the mind; and when the heart On rifted rocks, the dragon's late abodes, gave her a benediction, it was like one pronounced The green reed trembles, and the bulrush nods. on a living being.'

Waste sandy valleys, once perplexed with thorn,

The spiry fir and shapely box adorn :
The Messiah.

To leafless shrubs the flowery palms succeed,

And odorous myrtle to the noisome weed. Ye nymphs of Solyma ! begin the song:

The lambs with wolves shall graze the verdant moed, To heavenly themes sublimer strains belong.

And boys in flowery bands the tiger lead :
The mossy fountains and the sylvan shades,

The steer and lion at one crib shall meet,
The dreams of Pindus and the Aonian maids, And harmless serpents lick the pilgrim's feet.
Delight no more-0 thou my voice inspire,

The smiling infant in his hand shall take
Who touched Isaiah's hallowed lips with fire! The crested basilisk and speckled snake;

Pleascıl the green lustre of the scales survey,

Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, And with their forky tongue shall innocently play, Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide; Rise, crowned with light, imperial Salem, rise ! If to her share some female errors fall, Exalt thy towery head, and lift thy eyes!

Look on her face, and you'll forget them all. See a long race thy spacious courts adorn!

This nymph, to the destruction of mankind, See future sons and daughters yet unborn,

Nourished two locks, which graceful hung behind In crowding ranks on every side arise,

In equal curls, and well conspired to deck, Demantling life, impatient for the skies !

With shining ringlets, the smooth irory neck. See barbarous nations at thy gates attend,

Lore in these labyrinths his slaves detains, Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend !

And mighty hearts are held in slender chains. See thy bright altars thronged with prostrate kings, With hairy springes we the birds betray, Ard heaped with products of Sabean springs. Slight lines of hair surprise the finny prey; For thee Idume's spicy forests blow,

Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare, And seeds of gold in Ophir's mountains glow. And beauty draws us with a single hair. See heaven its sparkling portals wide display,

The advent'rous baron the bright locks admired; And break upon thee in a flood of day!

He saw, he wished, and to the prize aspired. No more the rising sun shall gild the morn,

Resolred to win, he meditates the way, Nor evening Cynthia fill her silver horn;

By force to ravish, or by fraud betray; But lost, dissolved in thy superior rays,

For when success a lorer's toil attends, One tide of glory, one unclouded blaze

Few ask if fraud or force attained his ends. O’erflow thy courts: the Light himself shall shine For this, ere Phæbus rose, he had implored Rerealed, and God's eternal day be thine!

Propitious heaven, and every power adored ; The seas shall waste, the skies in smoke decay, But chiefly Love-to Love an altar built, Rocks fall to dust, and mountains melt away;

Of twelve vast French romances, neatly gilt. But fixed his word, his saving power remains ; There lay three garters, half a pair of gloves, Thy realm for ever lasts, thy own Messiah reigns! And all the trophies of his former lores;

With tender billet-doux he lights the pyre, [The Toilet.]

And breathes three amorous sighs to raise the fire.

Then prostrate falls, and begs with ardent eyes [From The Rape of the Lock.')

Soon to obtain, and long possess the prize ; And now, unveiled, the toilet stands displayed, The powers gave ear, and granted half his prayer, Each silver vase in mystic order laid ;

The rest the winds dispersed in empty air. First, robed in white, the nymph intent adores, But now secure the painted vessel glides, With head uncovered, the cosmetic powers.

The sunbeams trembling on the floating tides : A hearenly image in the glass appears,

While melting music steals upon the sky, To that she bends, to that her eye she rears;

And softened sounds along the waters die; The inferior priestess, at her altar's side,

Smooth flow the waves, the zephyrs gently play, Trembling begins the sacred rites of pride.

Belinda smiled, and all the world was may. Unnumbered treasures ope at once, and here

All but the Sylph, with careful thoughts opprest, The various offerings of the world appear;

The impending wo sat heavy on his breast. From each she nicely culls with curious toil,

He summons straight his denizens of air; And decks the goddess with the glittering spoil. The lucid squadrons round the sails repair. This casket India's glowing gems unlocks,

Soft o'er the shrouds aèrial whispers breathe, And all Arabia breathes from yonder box:

That seemed but zephyrs to the train beneath. The tortoise here and elephant unite,

Some to the sun their insect wings unfold, Transformed to combs, the speckled and the white.

Waft on the breeze, or sink in clouds of gold; Here files of pins extend their shining rows,

Transparent forms, too fine for mortal sight, Puffs, powders, patches, bibles, billet-doux.

Their fluid bodies half dissolved in light, Now awful beauty puts on all its arms;

Loose to the wind their airy garments tlew, The fair each moment rises in her charms,

Thin glittering textures of the filmy dew, Repairs her smiles, awakens every grace,

Dipped in the richest tincture of the skies, And calls forth all the wonders of her face;

Where light disports in ever-mingling dyes; Sees by degrees a purer blush arise,

While every beam new transient colours flings, And keener lightnings quicken in her eyes.

Colours that change whene'er they wave their wings The busy sylphs surround their darling care,

Amid the circle on the gilded mast, These set the head, and those divide the hair; Superior by the head was Ariel placed ; Some fold the sleeve, whilst others plait the gown, His purple pinions opening to the sun, And Betty's praised for labours not her own.

He raised his azure wand and thus begun

Ye sylphs and sylphids, to your chief give ear; [Description of Belinda and the Sylphs.]

Fays, fairies, genii, elves, and dæmons, hear!

Ye know the spheres, and various tasks assigned (From the same.)

By laws eternal to the aërial kind. Not with more glories, in the ethereal plain,

Some in the fields of purest ether play, The sun first rises o'er the purpled main,

And bask and whiten in the blaze of day; Chan issuing forth, the rival of his beains

Some guide the course of wandering orbs on high, Launched on the bosom of the silver Thames.

Or roll the planets through the boundless sky; Fair nymphs and well-drest youths around her shone, Some, less refined, beneath the moon's pale light But every eye was fixed on her alone.

Pursue the stars that shoot athwart the night,
On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore, Or suck the mists in grosser air below,
Which Jews might kiss, and infidels adore.

Or dip their pinions in the painted bow,
Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose,

Or brew fierce tempests on the wintry main, Quick as her eyes, and as unfixed as those.

Or o'er the glebe distil the kindly rain. Favours to none, to all she smiles extends;

Others on earth o'er human race preside; Oft she rejects, but never once offends.

Watch all their ways, and all their actions guide : Bright as the sun,

gazers strike,

Of these the chief the care of nations own,
And, like the sun, they shine on all alike.

And guard with arms divine the British throne.

Our humbler province is to tend the fair,

Shrines, where their vigils pale-eyed virgins keep! Not a less pleasing, though less glorious care; And pitying saints, whose statues learn to weep! To save the powder from too rude a gale,

Though cold like you, unmoved and silent grown, Nor let the imprisoned essences exhale ;

I have not yet forgot myself to stone.
To draw fresh colours from the vernal flowers ; All is not heaven's while Abelard has part,
To steal froin rainbows ere they drop in showers Still rebel nature holds out half my heart ;
A brighter wash; to curl their waving hairs,

Nor prayers nor fasts its stubborn pulse restrain, Assist their blushes, and inspire their airs;

Nor tears for ages taught to flow in vain. Nay oft, in dreams, invention we bestow,

Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose,
To change a flounce, or add a furbelow.

That well-known name awakens all my woes
This day, black omens threat the brightest fair Oh, name for ever sad, for ever dear;
That e'er deserved a watchful spirit's care;

Still breathed in sighs, still ushered with a tear! Some dire disaster, or by force or flight;

I tremble, too, where'er my own I find,
But what, or where, the fates have wrapped in night. Some dire misfortune follows close behind.
Whether the nymph shall break Diana's law, Line after line my gushing eyes o’erflow,
Or some frail China-jar receive a flaw,

Led through a sad variety of wo:
Or stain her honour, or her new brocade,

Now warm in love, now withering in my bloom, Forget her prayers, or miss a masquerade;

Lost in a convent's solitary gloom ! Or lose her heart or necklace at a ball;

There stern religion quenched the unwilling flame, Or whether heaven has doomed that Shock must fall. There died the best of passions, love and fame. Haste, then, ye spirits ! to your charge repair :

Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join The fluttering fan be Zephyretta's care;

Griefs to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine ! The drops to thee, Brillante, we consign;

Nor foes nor fortune take this power away ; And, Momentilla, let the watch be thine;

And is my Abelard less kind than they? Do thou, Crispissa, tend her favourite Lock;

Tears still are mine, and those I need not spare ; Ariel himself shall be the guard of Shock.

Love but demands what else were shed in prayer To fifty chosen sylphs, of special note,

No happier task these faded eyes pursue ; We trust the important charge, the petticoat : To read and weep is all they now can do. Oft hare we known that seven-fold fence to fail,

Then share thy pain, allow that sad relief ; Though stiff with hoops, and armed with ribs of whale. Ah, more than share it, give me all thy grief. Form a strong line about the silver bound,

Heaven first taught letters for some wretch's aid, And guard the wide circumference around.

Some banished lover, or some captive maid ; Whatever spirit, careless of his charge,

They live, they speak, they breathe what love inspires, His post neglects, or leaves the fair at large,

Warm from the soul, and faithful to its fires. Shall feel sharp vengeance soon o'ertake his sins, The virgin's wish without her fears impart, Be stopped in vials, or transfixed with pins ;

Excuse the blush, and pour out all the heart, Or plunged in lakes of bitter washes lie,

Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul,
Or wedged whole ages in a bodkin's eye :

And waft a sigh from Indus to the pole.
Gums and pomatums shall his flight restrain, Ah, think at least thy flock deserves thy care,
While clogged he beats his silken wings in vain ;

Plants of thy hand, and children of thy prayer; Or alum styptics with contracting power

From the false world in early youth they fied, Shrink his thin essence like a shrivelled flower: By thce to mountains, wilds, and deserts led. Or, as Ixion fixed, the wretch shall feel

You raised these hallowed walls; the desert smiled, The giddy motion of the whirling mill;

And paradise was opened in the wild. In fumes of burning chocolate shall glow,

No weeping orphan saw his father's stores And tremble at the sea that froths below!

Our shrines irradiate, or emblaze the floors; He spoke ; the spirits from the sails descend : No silver saints, by dying misers given, Some, orb in orb, around the nymph extend ;

Here bribed the rage of ill-requited hearen : Some thrid the mazy ringlets of her hair,

But such plain roofs as piety could raise, Some hang upon the pendants of her ear :

And only vocal with the Maker's praire. With beating hearts the dire event they wait, In these lone walls (their day's eternal bound) Anxious, and trembling for the birth of fate. These moss-grown domes with spiry turrets crowr.ed,

Where awful arches make a noon-day night,

And the diin windows shed a solemn light; [From the Epistle of Eloisa to Abelard.] Thy eyes diffused a reconciling ray,

And gleains of glory brightened all the day. In these deep solitudes and awful cells,

But now no face divine contentient wears, Where heavenly-pensive contemplation dwells, 'Tis all blank sadness or continual tears. And ever-musing melancholy reigns,

See how the force of others' prayers 1 try, What means this tumult in a vestal's veins?

() pious fraud of amorous charity! Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat ? But why should I on others' prayers depend ! Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat ?

Come thou, my father, brother, husband, friend! Yet, yet I love!- From Abelard it came,

Ah, let thy handmaid, sister, daughter, move, And Eloisa yet must kiss the name.

And all those tender names in one, thy love! Dear, fatal name! rest erer unrevealed,

The darksome pines that o'er yon rocks reclined, Nor pass these lips in holy silence sealed:

Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind; Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise, The wand'ring streams that shine between the hills, Where, mixed with God's, his lored idea lies: The grots that echo to the tinkling rills, 0, write it not, my hand--the name appears

The dying gales that pant upon the trees, Already written-wash it out, my tears !

The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze ; In vain lost Eloisa weeps and prays,

No more these scenes my meditation aid, Her heart still dictates, and her hand obeys.

Or lull to rest the visionary maid. Relentless walls ! whose darksome round contains But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves, Repentant sighs, and voluntary pains :

Long sounding isles, and intermingled graves, Ye rugged rocks, which holy knees have worn! Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws Ye grots and caverns shagged with horrid thorn! A death-like silence, and a dread repose :

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