Page:The Works of Alexander Pope (1717).djvu/455

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MISCELLANIES.
419
Oh name for ever sad! for ever dear!Still breath'd in sighs, still usher'd with a tear.I tremble too, where-e'er my own I find,Some dire misfortune follows close behind.Line after line my gushing eyes o'erflow,Led thro' 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 dy'd the best of passions, Love and Fame.Yet write, oh write me all, that I may joinGriefs to thy griefs, and eccho sighs to thine.Nor foes nor fortune take this pow'r away.And is my Abelard less kind than they?Tears still are mine, and those I need not spare,Love but demands what else were shed in pray'r;No happier task these faded eyes pursue,To read and weep is all they now can do.Then share thy pain, allow that sad relief;Ah more than share it! give me all thy grief.

Heav'n

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