While prostrate here in humble grief I lie, Kind, virtuous drops just gathering in my eye, While praying, trembling, in the dust I roll, And dawning grace is opening on my soul: 280 Come, if thou dar'st, all charming as thou art! Oppose thyself to heaven; dispute my heart; Come, with one glance of those deluding eyes Blot out each bright idea of the skies; Take back that grace, those sorrows, and those tears; Take back my fruitless penitence and prayers; Snatch me, just mounting, from the blest abode; Assist the fiends, and tear me from my God! No, fly me, fly me, far as pole from pole; Rise Alps between us! and whole oceans roll! 290 Ah, come not, write not, think not once of me, Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee! Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign; Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine. Fair eyes, and tempting looks (which yet I view) Long loved, adored ideas, all adieu! O Grace serene! O Virtue heavenly fair! Divine oblivion of low-thoughted care! Fresh blooming Hope, gay daughter of the sky! 300 And Faith, our early immortality! Enter, each mild, each amicable guest; Receive, and wrap me in eternal rest! See in her cell sad Eloisa spread, Propp'd on some tomb, a neighbour of the dead. In each low wind methinks a spirit calls, And more than echoes talk along the walls. Here, as I watch'd the dying lamps around, From yonder shrine I heard a hollow sound. 'Come, sister, come!' (it said, or seem'd to say) 'Thy place is here, sad sister, come away! 310 Once like thyself, I trembled, wept, and pray'd, Love's victim then, though now a sainted maid: But all is calm in this eternal sleep; Here Grief forgets to groan, and Love to weep, Even Superstition loses every fear: For God, not man, absolves our frailties here.' I come, I come! prepare your roseate bowers, Celestial palms, and ever-blooming flowers. Thither, where sinners may have rest, I go, Where flames refined in breasts seraphic glow: 320 Thou, Abelard! the last sad office pay, And smooth my passage to the realms of day; See my lips tremble, and my eyeballs roll, Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul! Ah, no!--in sacred vestments may'st thou stand, The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand, Present the cross before my lifted eye, Teach me at once, and learn of me to die. Ah, then thy once-loved Eloisa see! It will be then no crime to gaze on me. 330 See from my cheek the transient roses fly! See the last sparkle languish in my eye! Till every motion, pulse, and breath be o'er; And even my Abelard be loved no more. O Death all-eloquent! you only prove What dust we doat on when 'tis man we love. Then too, when fate shall thy fair frame destroy, (That cause of all my guilt, and all my joy!) In trance ecstatic may thy pangs be drown'd, Bright clouds descend, and angels watch thee round, 340 From opening skies may streaming glories shine, And saints embrace thee with a love like mine.