Heloise to Abelard, 13

My fortune has been always in extremes.
Fate loaded me with favors, and with woe;
She lulled me in the lap of tender dreams,
Then woke me with the anguish of a blow.
She flung her choicest blessings at my feet,
Then took them all, in taking you away:
And in proportion as the past was sweet.
So is the bitter of my life to-day.
The envied of all women, through your love
My sorrows claim compassion from them all;
I was but lifted to fair heights above,
That men and angels might behold my fall.
Now comes the last affliction from fate's store—
I shall behold my Abelard no more!
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.