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Rise in the grove, before the altar rise, 205
While prostrate here in humble grief I lie,
tears; Take back my fruitless penitence and prayers ; Snatch me, just mounting, from the bless'd 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
274 Priests, tapers, &c. Pope seems to have felt no hesitation in borrowing, where the expression caught his ear. Those lines are word for word from Smith's dreary Phædra and Hippolytus :
Priests, tapers, temples, swam before my sight.
Ah, come not, write not, think not once of me;
See in her cell sad Eloisa spread,
315 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 : Thou, Abelard ! the last sad office pay,
321 And smoothe my passage to the realms of day:
See my lips tremble, and my eye-balls roll; Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul! Ah, no: in sacred vestments mayst thou stand, The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand,
326 Present the cross before
cheek the transient roses fly;
Then too, when fate shall thy fair frame destroy,
340 From opening skies may streaming glories shine, And saints embrace thee with a love like mine.
May one kind grave unite each hapless name, And graft my love immortal on thy fame! Then, ages hence, when all my woes are o’er, 345 When this rebellious heart shall beat no more; If ever chance two wandering lovers brings To Paraclete's white walls and silver springs, O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads, And drink the falling tears each other sheds; 350
323 See my lips tremble. From Oldham's' Death of Adonis :'
Kiss, while I watch thy swimming eyeballs roll,
Then sadly say, with mutual pity moved,-
of dreadful sacrifice;Amid that scene, if some relenting eye 355 Glance on the stone where our cold relics lie, Devotion's self shall steal a thought from heaven, One human tear shall drop, and be forgiven. And
sure, if fate some future bard shall join In sad similitude of griefs to mine;
360 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 : The well-sung woes will soothe my pensive ghost : He best can paint them who shall feel them most.