THE NUN. AN ELEGY. Edward Jerningham Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
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Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
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Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T124631 1073 K099398.000 Mendez, Moses. A collection of the most esteemed pieces of poetry: that have appeared for several years. With variety of originals, by the late Moses Mendez, Esq; and other contributors to Dodsley's collection. To which this is intended as a supplement. London printed for Richardson and Urquhart 1767 pp. 299-305. [8],320p. ; 8⁰.

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THE NUN . AN ELEGY . WITH each perfection dawning on her mind , All beauty's treasure opening on her cheek , Each flatt'ring hope subdu'd , each wish resign'd , Does gay Ophelia this lone mansion seek . Say , gentle maid , what prompts thee to forsake The paths , thy birth and fortune strew with flow'rs ? Through nature's kind endearing ties to break , And waste in cloyster'd walls thy pensive hours ? Let sober thought restrain thine erring zeal , That guides thy footsteps to the vestal gate , Lest thy soft heart ( this friendship bids reveal ) Like mine unblest shou'd mourn like mine too late . Does some angelic lonely-whisp'ring voice , Some sacred impulse , or some dream divine , Approve the dictates of thy early choice ? — Approach with confidence the awful shrine . There kneeling at yon altar's marble base ( While streams of rapture from thine eye-lid steal , And smiling heav'n illumes thy soul with grace ) Pronounce the vow , thou never can'st repeal . Yet if misled by false-entitled friends , Who say — " That peace with all her comely train , " From starry regions to this clime descends , " Smooths ev'ry frown , and softens ev'ry pain : " That vestals tread contentment's flow'ry lawn , " Approv'd of innocence , by health carest : " That rob'd in colours bright , by fancy drawn , " Celestial hope sits smiling at their breast ; " Suspect their syren song and artful style , Their pleasing sounds some treach'rous thought conceal ! Full oft does pride with sainted voice beguile , And sordid int'rest wear the mask of zeal . A tyrant abbess here perchance may reign , Who , fond of pow'r , affects the imperial nod , Looks down disdainful on her female train , And rules the cloyster with an iron rod . Reflection sickens at the life-long tie , Back-glancing mem'ry acts her busy part , Its charms the world unfolds to fancy's eye , And sheds allurement on the wishful heart . Lo ! Discord enters at the sacred porch , Rage in her frown , and terror on her crest : Ev'n at the hallow'd lamps she lights her torch , And holds it flaming to each virgin breast . But since the legends of monastic bliss By fraud are fabled , and by youth believ'd , Unbought experience learn from my distress , Oh ! mark my lot , and be no more deceiv'd . Three lustres scarce with hasty wing were fled , When I was torn from ev'ry weeping friend , A thoughtless victim to the temple led , And ( blush ye parents ) by a father's hand . Yet then what solemn scenes deceiv'd my choice ! The pealing organ's animating sound , The choral virgins' captivating voice , The blazing altar , and the priests around : The train of youths array'd in purest white , Who scatter'd myrtles as I pass'd along ; The thousand lamps that pour'd a flood of light , The kiss of peace from all the vestal throng : The golden censers toss'd with graceful hand , Whose fragrant breath Arabian odor shed : Of meek-ey'd novices the circling band , With blooming chaplets wove around their head . — My willing soul was caught in rapture's flame , While sacred ardor glow'd in ev'ry vein : Methought applauding angels sung my name , And heaven's unsullied glories gilt the fane . This temporary transport soon expir'd , My drooping heart confess'd a dreadful void : E'er since , alas ! abandon'd , uninspir'd , I tread this dome to misery allied . No wakening joy informs my sullen breast , Thro' opening skies no radiant seraph smiles , No saint descends to sooth my soul to rest , No dream of bliss the dreary night beguiles . Here haggard discontent still haunts my view ; The sombre genius reigns in ev'ry place , Arrays each virtue in the darkest hue , Chills ev'ry prayer , and cancels ev'ry grace . I meet her ever in the chearless cell , The gloomy grotto and unsocial wood ; I hear her ever in the midnight bell , The hollow gale , and hoarse resounding flood . This caus'd a mother's tender tears to flow , ( The sad remembrance time shall ne'er erase ) When having seal'd th' irrevocable vow , I hasten'd to receive her last embrace . Full-well she then presag'd my wretched fate , Th' unhappy moments of each future day : When lock'd within this terror-shedding grate , My joy-deserted soul would pine away . Yet ne'er did her maternal voice unfold This cloyster'd scene in all its horror drest ; Nor did she then my trembling steps withold When here I enter'd a reluctant guest . Ah ! could she view her only child betray'd , And let submission o'er her love prevail ? Th' unfeeling priest why did she not upbraid ? Forbid the vow , and rend the hov'ring veil ? Alas ! she might not — her relentless lord Had seal'd her lips , and chid her streaming tear , So anguish in her breast conceal'd its hoard , And all the mother sunk in dumb despair . But thou who own'st a father's sacred name , What act impell'd thee to this ruthless deed ? What crime had forfeited my filial claim ? And giv'n ( oh blasting thought ) thy heart to bleed ? If then thine injur'd child deserve thy care , Oh haste and bear her from this lonesome gloom ! In vain — no words can sooth his rigid ear ; And Gallia's laws have riveted my doom . Ye cloister'd fair — ye censure-breathing saints , Suppress your taunts , and learn at length to spare , Tho' mid these holy walls I vent my plaints , And give to sorrow what is due to pray'r . I fled not to this mansion's deep recess , To veil the blushes of a guilty shame , The tenor of an ill-spent life redress , And snatch from infamy a sinking name . Yet let me to my fate submissive bow ; From fatal symptoms if I right conceive , This stream Ophelia has not long to flow , This voice to murmur , and this breast to heave . Ah ! when extended on th' untimely bier To yonder vault this form shall be convey'd , Thou'lt not refuse to shed one grateful tear , And breathe the requiem to my fleeting shade . With pious footstep join the sable train , As thro' the lengthening ile they take their way ; A glimmering taper let thy hand sustain , Thy soothing voice attune the funeral lay : Behold the minister who lately gave The sacred veil , in garb of mournful hue , ( More friendly office ) bending o'er my grave , And sprinkling my remains with hallow'd dew : As o'er the corse he strews the rattling dust , The sternest heart will raise compassion's sigh : Ev'n then no longer to his child unjust , The tears may trickle from a father's eye .