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he was a phantom of delight
When first she gleam’d upon my sight;
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment’s ornament;
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair.

I dream of a red-rose tree.
And which of its roses three
Is the dearest rose to me?

All’s over, then: does truth sound bitter
As one at first believes?
Hark, ’tis the sparrows’ good-night twitter
About your cottage eaves!

“Eloisa to Abelard” is a moving poem of a love so strong. “In these deep solitudes and awful cells, Where heav’nly-pensive contemplation dwells.

Holy, fair, and wise is she;
The heaven such grace did lend her,
That she might admirèd be.

How Love came in, I do not know,
Whether by th’ eye, or eare, or no:
Or whether with the soule it came
(At first) infused with the same.

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted,
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss.

I bring you with reverent hands
The books of my numberless dreams,
White woman that passion has worn
As the tide wears the dove-grey sands.

I carry your heart with me (I carry it in
my heart) I am never without it (anywhere
I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing).

Elizabeth, it surely is most fit
[Logic and common usage so commanding]
In thy own book that first thy name be writ.
Zeno and other sages notwithstanding.