Eloise

I’ll call thee Elöise. Such eyes as thine With fatal beauty marred The peace of Abelard, And dimmed with human love the light divine That lingers near Religion’s holy shrine!

O pitiless eyes, you burn unto my soul, Each one a living coal From off Love’s altar! Fall, O silken lashes, And shade me, like a screen, from their control, Ere all my warm delight be turned to ashes!

Oh, no! I cannot bear the shade. Burn on, And let me slowly perish with sweet fire, Myself at once the victim and the pyre,— I die of cold when that dear heat is gone.