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Eloisa to Abelard. By Alexander Pope. 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? Yet, yet I love!—From Abelard it came,
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17 de ago. de 2020 · Thither, where sinners may have rest, I go, Where flames refin'd in breasts seraphic glow: Thou, Abelard! the last sad office pay, And smooth 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!
After refusing to agree to marriage for a long time because it would ruin Abelard's career in the church, Eloisa finally consented and the couple returned to Paris for a secret wedding. But the uncle's anger revived. Abelard took Eloisa to a convent at Argenteuil where she was professed as a novice.
Eloisa to Abelard is a verse epistle by Alexander Pope that was published in 1717 and based on a well-known medieval story. Itself an imitation of a Latin poetic genre, its immediate fame resulted in a large number of English imitations throughout the rest of the century and other poems more loosely based on its themes thereafter.
- Alexander Pope
- 1965
Eloisa to Abelard, por Alexander Pope | poemas, ensayos y cuentos en Poéticous. 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?
21 de jun. de 2018 · Autor del epitafio de Isaac Newton, Alexander Pope tuvo entre sus amigos a John Gay y Jonathan Swift, con quienes creó la tertulia londinense conocida como Scriblerus Club. Su fallecimiento se produjo el 30 de mayo de 1744 en Twickenham. A continuación, un poema de Pope en versión de Silvina Ocampo. ELOÍSA A ABELARDO.
Alexander Pope. In these deep solitudes and awful eells, Where heavenly-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? Yet, yet I love! —From Abelard it came. And Eloisa yet must kiss the name.
