See how the force of others pray'rs I try,
(Oh pious fraud of am'rous charity!)
But why should I on others pray'rs depend?
Come thou, my father, brother, hufband, friend!
Ah let thy handmaid, fifter, daughter move,
And, all thofe tender names in one, thy love!
The darkfome pines that o'er yon' rocks reclin'd
Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind,
The wand'ring ftreams that fhine between the hills,
The grots that echo to the tinkling riïls,
The dying gales that pant upon the trees,
The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze
No more these scenes my meditation aid,
Or lull to reft the vifionary maid.

But o'er the twilight groves, and dusky caves,
Long-founding ifles, and intermingled graves,
Black Melancholy fits, and round her throws
A death-like filence, and a dread repofe :
Her gloomy presence 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 stay ;
Sad proof how well a lover can obey!
Death, only death, can break the lasting chain;
And here ev'n then, fhall my cold duft 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 defpair?

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 the offense?
How the dear object from the crime remove,
Or how distinguish penitence from love?
Unequal task! a paffion to refign,

For hearts fo 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, defpair, refent, regret,
Conceal, difdain— -do all things but forget.
But let heaven feize it,

Not touch'd, but rapt;

all at once 'tis fir'd!

not weaken'd, but inspir'd!

Oh come! oh teach me nature to subdue,
Renounce my love, my life, my felf-and you.

Fill

1

Fill my fond heart with God alone, for he
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 fpotlefs mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish refign'd;
Labour and reft, that equal periods keep;
• Obedient flumbers that can wake and weep;
Defires compos'd, affections ever even ;

Tears that delight, and fighs that waft to heaven.
Grace fhines around her with ferenest beams,
And whisp'ring Angels prompt her golden dreams.
For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,
For her white virgins Hymenaals fing,
For her th' unfading rofe of Eden blooms,
And wings of Seraphs fhed divine perfumes,
To founds of heav'nly harps fhe dies away,
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,
Fancy reftores what vengeance snatch'd away,
Then conscience fleeps, and leaving nature free,
All my loose foul unbounded fprings to thee.
O curft, dear horrors of all confcious night!
How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight!
Provoking Dæmons all restraint remove,
And ftir 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,
The phantom flies me, as unkind as you.
I call aloud; it hears not what I fay;
I ftretch 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 waftes, and weep each other's woe,
Where round fome mould'ring tow'r pale ivy creeps,
And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps.
Sudden you mount, you beckon from the skies
Clouds interpofe, waves roar, and winds arise.
I fhriek, ftart up, the fame fad prospect find,
And wake to all the griefs I left behind.

For thee the fates, feverely kind, ordain
A cool fufpenfe from pleasure and from pain;
Thy life a long, dead calm of fix'd repose;
No pulfe that riots, and no blood that glows.
Still as the fea, e'er winds were taught to blow,
Or moving spirit bade the waters flow;
Soft as the flumbers of a faint forgiv'n,
And mild as opening gleams of promis'd heav'n.
Come Abelard! for what haft thou to dread?
The torch of Venus burns not for the dead.
Nature ftands check'd; Religion difapproves a
Ev'n thou art cold-yet Eloïfa loves.

Ah

Ah hopeless, lafting flames! like thofe that burn
To light the dead, and warm ta' unfruitful urn.
What scenes appear, where e'er I turn my view,
The dear Ideas where I fly, purfue,

Rife in the grove, before the altar rise,
Stain all my foul, and wanton in my eyes.
I waste the Matin lamp in fighs for thee,
Thy image fteals between my God and me,
Thy voice I seem in ev'ry hymn to hear,
With ev'ry bead I drop too soft a tear.
When from the cenfer clouds of fragrance roll,
And fwelling organs lift the rifing foul,
One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight,
Priests, tapers, temples, fwim before my fight;
In feas of fame my plunging foul is drown'd,
While Altars blaze, and Angels tremble round.

While proftrate here in humble grief I lie,
Kind, virtuous drops just gath'ring in my eye,
While praying, trembling, in the duft I roll,
And dawning grace is opening on my foul:
Come, if thou dar'ft, all charming as thou art!
Oppose thy felf to heav'n; difpute my heart;
Come, with one glance of those deluding eyes
Blot out each bright Idea of the skies;

Take back that grace, thofe forrows, and those tears ; Take back my fruitless penitence and pray'rs ; Snatch me, just mounting, from the bleft abode: Affift the fiends, and tear me from my God!

No,