!! I iiUittlllilUl!! SheSoveSotiiKtsof a TV ci III! ii i 1 il.l! 1 ■ A>^ /: 'i'' ; Wil'^'^ I', y I. ',!V ' \\ ./;'' Ill '(ipf ^ 331;^ Copyright)^" • COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. I 'JiT I ■ -^ ( I '..»; ■iP"tij||||f iln. :ilil|f| li'M I uSmmflt JiSt: l$07 \1^ lUBSARYofCONeRESst ■ ,/ ' \ TWO C'->y!5s fi;3CsJved s NOV ieJ9or I ^^ Z % ft' 7 j 0W3§ A ^c,. Mo. j COPY tJ. . 1 Copyright, 1907, BY Ella Wheeler Wilcox wmmm Th e story of Abelarci and Heloise has trailed across the centuries like a humi ng comet ac ross the hea vens. Seven hundred years ha ve not di- minished its f ier y splendor . The tragi c history conta ined in t he five remark -- ihle letters left hy the lovers is as vivid a page in the Tvorld's literature as though Ahelard and Heloise had lived, loved and suffered only a decade ago. In emhodymg these letters m sonnet form I have retained to a g r eat degree their identical language. In no instance has l iherty heen taken with the origi nal meaning or purport. The son nets are therefore little more than a rhymi ng paraphrase of the immortal love-letters of Ahelard and Heloise. £ltillllh((b(|l tec .?^ Mm mdm jy that vast love and pas- sion wnicn I bore you, jBy these long years or i solitude and griei, By all my vows, I pray \ and I implore you, _^ssu3i^e my sorro^vs i with a sweet relier. A mong these holy women, sin aDnorring, \v hose sno"w-^vnite thoughts fly ever to the C ross, I am a sinner, with my passions "warring, A. 11 unrepentant, grieving for my loss. Oh, not through zeal, religion or devotion. Did I abandon those dear paths ^ve trod; I rollo'wed only one supreme emotion, I took the veil for Ao^lard — not God* O vows, O convent, though you nave estranged My lover s heart, behold my o^vn unchanged ! ^^?v^eignt. And witk th e soo tiling solace of your letters. To teacn me resignation to my fate. Since you no more may breatne love s fervent story. I would le bride of keaven. On, tell me now! A^vake in me an ardor for tnat glory. Xne love divine, so lacking m me now! As once your songs related all love s pleasures. Relate to me the rapture of your faith. Unlock tte storekouse of your ne^v-f ound treasures And lend a radiance to my living death. Ok, tkink of me, and kelp me tkrougk tke years! Adieu! — ^I blot tkis message witk my tears. nowini ing tk e years of our delignt were past. And tnose seductive days no more cou ui ure. I sought religion s fetters to make fast The sinful heart that purpose d to b e pure. In this seclusion, to conceal my shame: In this asylum, to forget. Alas! rhe very silence shouts aloud your name: Through every sunheam does your radiance pass. 1 fled, to leave your image far hehind. 1 pictured you the enemy of hope, Yet still I seek you, seek you in my mind. And do^vn the aisles of memory I grope. I hate, I love, I pray, and I despair. I hlame myself, and grief is everywhere. mmA4i^^^^.^ TBBSaiHB&SHi] TTm r (^m i ne altars ^vnere 1 grovel bring no peace; eligion bias me kolJ my thougnts m cneck. b mce 1 mce love in me can have no further part; 13 ut as wild billows JasK upon a wreck, bo passions rise and beat upon my neart. The habit of tne penitent J- \vear. God gives not need nor answer to my prayer. B ecause tkeflc itk ames \vithin me do not cease: They are but bid witn asbes, and ^ lack Tbe strengtb to flood them witb a grace divme. F or memory forever drags me back And bids me worsbip at the olden sbrme. Your image rises, sbrouded m its veil. And all my resolutions droop and fail. 1 IX looked into the li of your eyes. And dared tke flames of I w^ould forget, and think tnat you forgot. eaven nell: 1 neard you speak. And strove no longer to be strong and wise — r!/arth s rapture lay m be- ing fond and weak. Oh, paradox! that virtue like your own. o guilty shame transfo rmed a holy life. And the entrancing mu sic of your tone Changed peaceful har monies to jarring strife. Our wild abandon and the sinful thrall Of stolen hours of bliss. O h, bid me not The memory of those vanished days recall! While you remember, ho"w canl forget? Or hope's star dawn, till passion s sun has set? aat^nt»mftii»ftmtae X ax not f ( tk or me tnose sacrec vo'ws you took. A^Q your vocation ruth- lessly profane: Sucn blaspheniies Go^ will not o erlook, Nor grant salvation till your passions v^rane. Your constancy gives food to vain desires And your affection adas to my offense; You do but pour on recollection s fires Destructive fuel, of tumultuous sense. Convinced ofsm, of sin I am not cured; Tbe mind repels it, but tke neart invites. Ok, give not tken fresk ^voes to be endured. By new recitals of our old deligkts! I faint fceneatk tke burdens tkat I bear. \A/itbout tbe increased weigbt of your despair. ^ ifitlnyh'^i^flKffWi^ saua miittttimiit&t XI nis mor tal love, when QT velt upon with joy. The love of God may not anni hilate. Oh, 'would you ^;vith old memories destroy My piety, m its incipient state? And can you near confessions such as tnese. And tkrust your love between my God and me? Witkdraw yourself, unhappy jjeloise. Be Heaven's alone, and let my life go free. ly v ows to God grow f eehle, in the war \Vith thoughts of you, and Duty's voices die. Unanswered, down my soul's dark corridor. While m my heart is passion's desperate cry. Drain sorrow's chalice, bravely take your cross; To win back God, lies through the creature s loss, li&i^i^i^i&iA * A Q XII ou call me F atner; I was parriciae : You call me Master; it "was sm I taught: You call me Husbanct, yet you "were my briae But after blight and ruin nad. been "wrought. j]3lot out those words, and substitute instead, I The darkest titles "wounded pride can name. X nrough me your nonor and your peace lie dead; I took your virtue, and I gave you shame. N ot ^ve alone in passion s pit "were nurled; B ecause "we railed, shall otner lives be "weak? O u*" follies nave set standards for the "world; O f our "Wild amours shall tne centuries speak. F or my salvation let your tears be spent; A dvance in virtue, and repent! repent! toil! Jmm %i&AM,^ M^^^ A A A ,An. ^imflrtltt^^ffllMilBr^itfliltiii ^Biiii 11 ^^iiiii^ii iHliiiiiiiiiiiir-irB ■r^iiiilMiiilli m - lii K} C mmim to AttftutM r- XIII y fortune nas been al\vays in extremes. Fate loaded me with fa- vors, ana witn "woe; Sne lulled me in tne lap or tender dreams, 1 hen woke me "witn the anguish or a blow. Sne flung ner cnoicest blessings at my feet, Tnen took tnem all, m taking you away: Ana in proportion as the past was s^v eet. So IS tne Ditter of my life to-day. The envied of all \vomen, througn your love Mty sorro^vs claim compassion from them all; I "was Lut lifted to fair heignts above, Tliat men and angels migbt behold my fall. _ Njjw comes tbe last affliction from fate's store — -_ I shall behold my Abclard no more! DjgiatBtt^ to AtitmMirr XIV ot mine the right to mur- mur or comiplain. For I alone am your mis- fortune s cause. I am tne portal to your house or pain; For Heloise you Iroke God s holy laws. your greatness in my beauty s snare; You found destruction, gazing in my face; And Ssinison's fall and Solomon s despair Are lived again in Abelard's disgrace. Yet grant me tkis poor comfort, for my dole- I sought not, like Delilan, to destroy; Mine -was the passion-blmded woman s role \Viio gave her virtue for her lover s joy. Convinced of love, I hastened to pour out Life 8 dearest treasures, that you might not doubt. ^raSESM^B! XV made no use of pretext or dexense; 1 valued virtue, onlyjto bestow; Like ^vliite, higli n oon- tide, glaring and intense, L ove drowned tke ^v orld of reason m its glo w. ITo te beloved by Abelard — tbat tbougbt Absorbed all otber purposes like flame, Sucb bavoc passion in my bosom wro ugnt, 1 banisbed bonor, and invited sbame. I tbrust out duty, and installed des ire; il aimed at notb^ng but possessing^you. Ob, God, could I but quencb witb t ears tbe J ire Of memory of tbose deligbts we knew! G)uld I forget^or^ grieve for wbat was done. Divine forgiveness migbt be sougbt, an d wo n. give tut lip-repentance for E acli night I see my A And all of wisJom in your utterance seems. my sins. And no contrition to my il is k soul IS known; Eacli clay my lawless memory tegi ms Recounting pleasures that ^vere once our o^v^n. be lard m dreams. Entranced -svith love, w^e turn away from books; And all of rapture in your w^ords and looks. And I remember that dear place and spot Where first your passion spoke and kindled mine. What tide of time can wash away, or hlot Such mem Vies from the heart? Has love divine. And your misfortune, brought you into peace. While I still strive with storms that never cease? o you, in slumDer, some- times stretcn your arms To clasp tne yielding form of Heloise? Do you recall my kisses and my charms? Or nave those pleasures lost their poM^er to please? [Within tnese •walls, I weep and ever ^weep. Tnis cloister echoes my rebellious cries: Worn out witn sorroAv I relive m sleep The unaoating grief that never dies. Shall AbelarJ, the all-entrancing theme. Consume tne soul tnat ought to seek *^od s tnrone? rioTV can I nope tbe Power I so blaspheme, >Vill grant me pardon, or my sins condone? On, you "Whose face I never more may see. Have pity on my pligkt, and pray for me! ^^iia^Wm^^^^ XVIII rite me no more. Let all comimunion en i. We left tke w^orlJ, to purify our tnougnt. But prayer is vain, and penance comes t o nougnt. Wk en human passions livitn our nearts contend. N o alckemist witkin tke keart can klend D esire and f aitk; tke peace wkick we kave sougkt^ By crucifixion of tke flesk is kougkt. Let rites redoukle, and let prayers ascend. Your letters prove my foes. ^Vkenl w^ould gird God's armor on, and pinion to tke dust Regrets tkat kar my patk to Paradise, I fall inert, kef ore eack kurning vv^ord; Resolve is slain, as ky a dagger-tkrust; And Ckrist is kidden ky your ardent eyes. O Id kalf-tealcd wounds reopen in my breast, j A nd tlood-drops stam tLe young unsullied sod ! Wtere walked tkc feet of F aitli, repentance-skod. My prayerful tko'ts swerve in tkeir upward quest. And carnal love is once again tkeir guest— ^ain, in dreams, is pleasure's patkway trod. Write me no more; you draw me back to eartb. Moved by your words, I lose tbe better way. My purpose falters, and my courage taints. Oti, crusb eacb lawless impulse at its birtb, l^am tbe large meaning of tbe word ''obey. And drain tbe bitter cbalice of tbe saints. Ln m; xx_ rite me no more, diligent m prayer; rrow Let God, not Abelard, D( your concern. When mem ries torture. la wn i and when passions burn. Look to tke Cross, that uge ox despair; fref Its outstretcKed arms are ever \vaiting t here. Immortal life is sometking we must earn By conquest of tke baser self. Oh, turn Your tkougkts f rom eartb, to \vorlcls divinely fair. Let silence give our sorrow^ing love true \vorth. Xo love you, means to leave you witn no sign: To love me, means to let my life go free. But w^ken deatk calls our purged souls from ea Ok, may your senseless clay rest close to mine ! Adieu! adieu! and write no more to me. , Mm w BJKJDlgetDAIiemtti 'J'-'ly holy meditations are not scarred ly thoughts fl y unimpeded to tne goal Detnroned you r image and for ever barred. On, let my infidelity proclaim To all tne ^vorld now fickle love can change! A rival rules tne heart once deemed so true. XXI t lastCj od sho^ws me proof of H is regarci, And tranquil joys re place grief s uncontrol. D esire no longi er riots in my sou 1; one are tke i reams oi ove ani d A belard. yy scalding tears from me mory s brimming bo^wl; Yet, ere you think me sunk m utter shame. Hear my disclosure of -wbat seems so strange 'Xis vjod alone takes rXeloise from you. o more "will 1 endeavor to arouse. B y recollection s aoft, se- ductive art. The guilty fondness of lyour suffering neart; fTo fate s decree my bro-' ken spirit bows. I tkink of you no longer as tlie sjouse^ But as tke f atker, set from men apart. Insensible to passion s poison dart. The boly stew^ard in God s sac red house. My peace >vas bom of anguisb, but it liveg, A pbenix risen from love's funeral pyre. Tbe patb to Duty is tbe patb to Hiss: Tkere is no pleasure save Avbat virtue gives.__ And yet — again to toucb tbat moutb of fire. To lose tbe world, and find it, in your kiss! HOV 18 190V i,f( ' I I. y ii! :' 'i#li ,t ;'■ ^l^dittii^J^' fi' l\ h .) ; -'iMIiy