And swelling organs lift the rising soul, One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight, Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight;[691] In seas of flame my plunging soul is drowned, 275 While altars blaze, and angels tremble round.[692] While prostrate here in humble grief I lie, Kind, virtuous drops just gath'ring in my eye, While praying, trembling, in the dust I roll, And dawning grace is op'ning on my soul: 280 Come, if thou dar'st, all charming as thou art! Oppose thyself to heav'n; 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; 285 Take back my fruitless penitence and pray'rs; Snatch me, just mounting, from the bless'd abode; Assist the fiends, and tear me from my God![693] No, fly me, fly me, far as pole from pole;[694] Rise alps between us! and whole oceans roll![695] 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;[696] Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine. Fair eyes, and tempting looks, (which yet I view!) 295 Long loved, adored ideas, all adieu! Oh grace serene! oh virtue heav'nly fair![697] Divine oblivion of low-thoughted care![698] Fresh-blooming hope, gay daughter of the sky! And faith, our early immortality![699] 300 Enter, each mild, each amicable guest: Receive, and wrap me in eternal rest. See in her cell sad Eloisa spread, Propped on some tomb, a neighbour of the dead.[700] In each low wind methinks a spirit calls, 305 And more than echoes talk along the walls.[701] Here, as I watched the dying lamps around, From yonder shrine I heard a hollow sound. "Come, sister, come! (it said, or seemed to say).[702] "Thy place is here, sad sister, come away;[703] 310 "Once like thyself, I trembled, wept, and prayed, Love's victim then, though now a sainted maid:[704] But all is calm in this eternal sleep;[705] Here grief forgets to groan, and love to weep, Ev'n superstition loses every fear: 315 For God, not man, absolves our frailties here." I come, I come![706] prepare your roseate bow'rs, Celestial palms, and ever-blooming flow'rs; Thither, where sinners may have rest, I go, Where flames refined in breasts seraphic glow: 320 Thou, Abelard! the last sad office pay,[707] And smooth my passage to the realms of day:[708] See my lips tremble, and my eye-balls roll, Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul![709] Ah no--in sacred vestments may'st thou stand, 325