Poetry (1)
It’s probably nothing new for our British folks, but “Eloisa to Abelard” is one of the most amazing poems I’ve ever read. Divine, erotic and tragic: a perfect trinity that is fulfilled by this wonderful work by Alexander Pope.
I come, I come! prepare your roseate bow’rs,
Celestial palms, and ever-blooming flow’rs.
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!
Tags: abelard, alexander, divine, eloisa, erotic, pope, tragedy