Eloisa to Abelard

—– A little part of Alexander Pope poetry lyrics: Eloisa to Abelard, i just always LOVE this….

In these deep solitudes and awful cells,
Where heav’nly-pensive contemplation dwells,
And ever-musing melancholy reigns;
What means this tumult in a vestal’s veins?
Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat?
Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat?
Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise,
Where mix’d with God’s, his lov’d idea lies:
O write it not, my hand — the name appears
Already written — wash it out, my tears!

Relentless walls! whose darksome round contains
Repentant sighs, and voluntary pains:
Still breath’d in sighs, still usher’d with a tear.
I tremble too, where’er my own I find,
Some dire misfortune follows close behind.
Line after line my gushing eyes o’erflow,
Led through a sad variety of woe:
Now warm in love, now with’ring in thy bloom,
Lost in a convent’s solitary gloom!
There stern religion quench’d th’ unwilling flame,
There died the best of passions, love and fame.

Then share thy pain, allow that sad relief;
Ah, more than share it! give me all thy grief.
Heav’n first taught letters for some wretch’s aid,
Some banish’d lover, or some captive maid;
They live, they speak, they breathe what love inspires,
Warm from the soul, and faithful to its fires.

The crime was common, common be the pain.
I can no more; by shame, by rage suppress’d,
Let tears, and burning blushes speak the rest.

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 solicit new;
Now turn’d to Heav’n, I weep my past offence,
Now think of thee, and curse my innocence.
Of all affliction taught a lover yet,
‘Tis sure the hardest science to forget!
How shall I lose the sin, yet keep the sense,
And love th’ offender, yet detest th’ offence?
How the dear object from the crime remove,
Or how distinguish penitence from love?
Unequal task! a passion to resign,
For hearts so touch’d, so pierc’d, so lost as mine.
Ere such a soul regains its peaceful state,
How often must it love, how often hate!
How often hope, despair, resent, regret,
Conceal, disdain — do all things but forget.
But let Heav’n seize it, all at once ’tis fir’d;
Not touch’d, but rapt; not waken’d, but inspir’d!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray’r accepted, and each wish resign’d;
Take back that grace, those sorrows, and those tears;
Take back my fruitless penitence and pray’rs;
Snatch me, just mounting, from the blest abode;

No, fly me, fly me, far as pole from pole;
Rise Alps between us! and whole oceans roll!

And sure, if fate some future bard shall join
In sad similitude of griefs to mine,
Condemn’d whole years in absence to deplore,
And image charms he must behold no more;
Such if there be, who loves so long, so well;
Let him our sad, our tender story tell;

** For the full version of the Poetry, you could see it in HERE. =) enjooyy..

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