ON
THE
DUTCHESS
OF
MAZARIN's
RETIRING
INTO
A
CONVENT
.
BY
THE
SAME
.
YE
holy
cares
that
haunt
these
lonely
cells
,
These
scenes
where
salutary
sadness
dwells
;
Ye
sighs
that
minute
the
slow
wasting
day
,
Ye
pale
regrets
that
wear
my
life
away
;
O
bid
these
passions
for
the
world
depart
,
These
wild
desires
,
and
vanities
of
heart
!
Hide
every
trace
of
vice
,
of
follies
past
,
And
yield
to
Heaven
the
victory
at
last
.
To
that
the
poor
remains
of
life
are
due
,
'Tis
Heaven
that
calls
,
and
I
the
call
pursue
.
Lord
of
my
life
,
my
future
cares
are
thine
,
My
love
,
my
duty
greet
thy
holy
shrine
:
No
more
my
heart
to
vainer
hopes
I
give
,
But
live
for
thee
,
whose
bounty
bids
me
live
.
The
power
that
gave
these
little
charms
their
grace
,
His
favours
bounded
,
and
confin'd
their
space
;
Spite
of
those
charms
shall
time
,
with
rude
essay
,
Tear
from
the
cheek
the
transient
rose
away
;
But
the
free
Mind
,
ten
thousand
ages
past
,
Its
maker's
form
,
shall
with
its
maker
last
.
Uncertain
objects
still
our
hopes
employ
;
Uncertain
all
that
bears
the
name
of
joy
!
Of
all
that
feels
the
injuries
of
fate
Uncertain
is
the
search
,
and
short
the
date
:
Yet
ev'n
that
boon-what
thousands
wish
to
gain
?
That
boon
of
Death
,
the
sad
resource
of
pain
!
Once
on
my
path
all
fortune's
glory
fell
,
Her
vain
magnificence
,
and
courtly
swell
:
Love
touch'd
my
soul
at
least
with
soft
desires
,
And
Vanity
there
fed
her
meteor
fires
.
This
truth
at
last
the
mighty
scenes
let
fall
,
An
hour
of
Innocence
was
worth
them
all
.
Lord
of
my
life
!
O
let
thy
sacred
ray
Shine
o'er
my
heart
,
and
break
its
clouds
away
!
Deluding
,
flattering
,
faithless
world
adieu
!
Long
hast
thou
taught
me
GOD
IS
ONLY
TRUE
.
That
God
alone
I
trust
,
alone
adore
,
No
more
deluded
,
and
misled
no
more
.
Come
,
sacred
hour
,
when
wavering
doubts
shall
cease
!
Come
,
holy
scenes
of
long
repose
and
peace
!
Yet
shall
my
heart
,
to
other
interests
true
,
A
moment
balance
'twixt
the
world
and
you
?
Of
pensive
nights
,
of
long-reflecting
days
,
Be
yours
,
at
last
,
the
triumph
and
the
praise
!
Great
,
gracious
Master
!
whose
unbounded
sway
,
Felt
thro'
ten
thousand
worlds
,
those
worlds
obey
,
Wilt
thou
for
once
thy
awful
glories
shade
,
And
deign
t'
espouse
the
creature
thou
hast
made
?
All
other
ties
indignant
I
disclaim
,
Dishonour'd
those
,
and
infamous
to
name
!
O
fatal
ties
,
for
which
such
tears
I've
shed
,
For
which
the
pleasures
of
the
world
lay
dead
!
That
world's
soft
pleasures
you
alone
disarm
;
That
world
without
you
still
might
have
its
charm
.
But
now
those
scenes
of
tempting
hope
I
close
,
And
seek
the
peaceful
studies
of
Repose
;
Look
on
the
past
as
time
that
stole
away
,
And
beg
the
blessings
of
a
happier
day
.
Ye
gay
saloons
,
ye
golden-vested
halls
,
Scenes
of
high
treats
,
and
heart-bewitching
balls
!
Dress
,
figure
,
splendor
,
charms
of
play
,
farewel
,
And
all
the
toilet's
science
to
excel
!
Ev'n
Love
,
that
ambush'd
in
this
beauteous
hair
,
No
more
shall
lie
,
like
Indian
archers
,
there
.
Go
,
erring
Love
!
for
nobler
objects
given
!
Go
,
beauteous
hair
,
a
sacrifice
to
Heaven
!
Soon
shall
the
veil
these
glowing
features
hide
,
At
once
the
period
of
their
power
and
pride
!
The
hapless
lover
shall
no
more
complain
Of
vows
unheard
,
or
unrewarded
pain
;
While
calmly
sleep
in
each
untortur'd
breast
My
secret
sorrow
,
and
his
sighs
profest
.
Go
,
fiattering
train
!
and
,
slaves
to
me
no
more
,
With
the
same
sighs
some
happier
fair
adore
!
Your
alter'd
faith
I
blame
not
,
nor
bewail
—
And
haply
yet
(
what
woman
is
not
frail
?
)
Yet
,
haply
,
might
I
calmer
minutes
prove
,
If
he
that
lov'd
me
knew
no
other
love
!
Yet
were
that
ardor
,
which
his
breast
inspir'd
,
By
charms
of
more
than
mortal
beauty
fir'd
,
What
nobler
pride
!
could
I
to
Heaven
resign
The
zeal
,
the
service
that
I
boasted
mine
!
O
change
your
false
desires
,
ye
flattering
train
!
And
love
me
pious
,
whom
ye
love
profane
!
These
long
adieus
with
lovers
doom'd
to
go
,
Or
prove
their
merit
,
or
my
weakness
shew
;
But
Heaven
,
to
such
soft
frailties
less
severe
,
May
spare
the
tribute
of
a
female
tear
,
May
yield
one
tender
moment
to
deplore
Those
gentle
hearts
that
I
must
hold
no
more
.