暖暖内含光

第一次看到这部电影的短片广告是在一部普通电影开始前。一位白发苍苍的老头扮成科学家的样子，在充满试管烧瓶和电子仪器的实验室里面对屏幕说：想像一天，你的生活将变成完美。想像一天，现代科技的发展能够消除生活里一切不完美的片断。想像一天，生活中不再有悲伤绝望，生命永远阳光灿烂。

我清清楚楚的记得自己当时的反应是：“多么奇怪的广告！说了半天都不知道在宣传什么产品。”

真正开始看这部电影的时候，前面半个多小时我的反应就跟对短片广告的反应差不多：什么意思，什么意思嘛！

所以当金·凯利饰演的男主人公约尔发现自己的前女朋友，凯特·温斯莱特饰演的克俪门泰通过这种先进的科技手段把痛苦的记忆，把关于他的一切记忆从头脑中抹去之后，自己也决定进行同样的手术把克俪门泰从记忆中消除的时候，我那种恍然大悟的解脱，简直是醍醐灌顶，简直比被最最智慧的老和尚当头给我一棒喝还要过瘾。我恨不得从座位里站起来，对着屏幕大喊：导演是个天才，我看懂了，我也是个天才！

当然，我没有站起来大喊。自认天才的我可不是傻瓜。这部电影的精彩之处从这里才刚刚开始。

创作这个剧本的查里·卡夫曼才是幕后真正的天才。他带领观众在约尔的潜意识里游走，用最幽默最不可思议却又最深刻的方式剖析人的意识与思维。幸福快乐是人类永恒追求的目标。多少次，我们幻想忘记那些不快乐的记忆，消除那些痛苦的回忆。可假如有一天，科技进步能够抹去记忆中的一切污点，让无暇的心灵生活在永恒阳光里，我们就真的幸福了吗？失去痛苦的同时人也失去了自我调和的可能，失去了接受自我接受生活的机会，结果错误的历史被一再重复。

故事里约尔的潜意识发现自己仍深爱克俪门泰的时候，约尔不得不与自己的意识搏斗，拯救关于爱情的最后记忆。这时候故事如何发展都不再重要了，甚至约尔与克俪门泰的爱情如何感人如何震撼都不是重点。重点是这部电影把一个复杂的哲学问题如此形象感人的表达出来，所有的一切因果是空前完满，没有半点破绽。与其说这是一部爱情电影，不如说这是一部哲学电影，是一次智慧的灌溉。虽然它并不能给我们的心灵带来永恒阳光，却带领我们向幸福的方向迈进了一步。

虽说《无暇心灵的永恒阳光》在哲学上的震撼超越了爱情，可从此之后，每当我想到爱情，眼前浮现的都是约尔与碧蓝头发的克俪门泰躺在裂痕四射的冰冻湖面上的静谧平和与平静表面下的波涛暗涌。所以当周迅在陈可辛的《如果·爱》里重复了躺在冰面上的镜头时，我就已经基本预测出了电影的结局。

1、影片开头，是倒叙，乔尔突然翘班去蒙托克，遇见了克蕾敏婷，他们开始交往。2、乔尔失恋，克蕾敏婷不认识他，并与一个小男孩（派屈克）交往，乔尔痛不欲生，他的朋友告诉他，克蕾敏婷清除了对他的记忆，情人节将至，他于是也去了“失恋诊所”，当晚进行记忆清除。3、在清除记忆过程中，他得知：诊所的小员工派屈克，爱上了克蕾敏婷，并利用他们的记忆，与克蕾敏婷交往。记忆由近至久开始清除，由情感僵化、争吵，回到热恋相爱，乔尔由一开始的报复，泄愤，变得不舍，他留恋他们在一起的时光，他不要再继续下去，他不要忘记克蕾敏婷。于是开始了对记忆清除设备的抗争。他带着克蕾敏婷躲在童年、耻辱的回忆中，以躲避在诊所电脑绘制的关于克蕾敏婷的记忆蓝图。4、于此同时，诊所女员工表露出对诊所医生的暗恋倾慕之情，并被医生妻子发现，其实是再发现，女人啊。医生的妻子告诉女员工：你们其实已经有过一段了，你也清除过记忆。女员工陷入关于爱、人生、道德的迷惘。5、医生对乔尔的记忆进行追捕，记忆飞逝，乔尔和克蕾敏婷回到了他们最初相识的地方，蒙托克，乔尔享受着即将逝去的温与馨，乔尔忍受着记忆消逝的失与落，沙滩边，“他们的房子”，克蕾敏婷带乔尔冒险的地方，乔尔后悔当初他没有留下，陪着克蕾敏婷，现在，在他的大脑里，在即将消逝的记忆里，他留下来陪她。乔尔对克蕾敏婷说：我爱你。克蕾敏婷对乔尔说：我们蒙托克见。6、诊所女员工辞职离开，并带走了“病人”的资料，将资料还给他们。7、回到影片开始，乔尔醒了，克蕾敏婷从他的记忆里消逝了，他突然想去蒙托克，他每天都写日记，可是他两年没写日记了，关于克蕾敏婷的两年，从他的记忆里消逝了，在蒙托克的海滩，乔尔遇见了克蕾敏婷。他们，再次相爱了。8、他们各自收到了诊所女员工寄来的录音带和资料，他们互相听了他们要清除对方记忆的原因，他说她：缺少教养、神经质，她说他：乏味、缺少乐趣。他们彼此都不堪忍受，因为录音的话很难入耳。克蕾敏婷走了，乔尔叫住了她，可能是他潜意识里要他珍惜、变得主动，他们彼此都知道，相处久了，会发现彼此的缺点，甚至无法容忍，再度分手，可乔尔说：It`s okay。他们笑了。他们在漫天飘雪的蒙托克海滩追逐打闹，永恒的纯净的记忆里。“纯洁无暇的人是多么幸福， 遗忘了世人，也被世人遗忘， 美丽心灵里有永恒阳光，祈祷都应验，愿望都得偿。”

自从那年的一部《成为马尔可维奇》令人拍案惊奇之后，好莱坞就似乎特别喜欢研究人脑玩了，虽然我对科幻片一向没有特别的喜爱，但是随口数得过来的拿人脑来说事的也有好几部。除了科技发展到可以把一个人送进另一个人的大脑中去以外，最典型的是刚刚看完的《记忆裂痕》里，本 阿弗莱特的大脑像一块黑板一样被人擦来擦去，最长的一次甚至要擦去三年的记忆，然后他再给自己留下无数线索，向玩闯关游戏一样，在三年后把线索拿出来挨个揭破。

我想我一辈子也不会去当什么间谍或者科学家，因此这样的电影，一向不过是看看热闹，学习点新概念而已。但是这一部《暖暖内含光》却是不同，同样是消除记忆的故事，却是普通的一对男女，分手了，每日里孤单单的拿着个叫做记忆的东西不知怎么办好，于是就选了个科学的法子，一前一后的跑去洗脑，无论如何，只要快点远离那痛苦就好。我看着这样的剧情介绍，竟然一时间有些动容，心里头冒出歪念，如果科学真可以进步如此，岂不是从此可以尽情的疯去，再也不怕那爱情带来的千疮百孔了？

于是一有机会，就忙不迭的找来看了，结果却并不是想像中带着微微喜色的故事，相反，笼罩着人心的，却是淡淡的伤感。远离了好莱坞式的明色重彩，金凯利消瘦的脸上从头至尾笼罩着一层异国情调的灰色，和他满眼的忧郁纠集在一起，让人看了心酸，我开始怀疑这个电影的导演不是好莱坞教育起来的，于是跑去IMDB上查找，果然，麦克尔 加德纳，一个法国出生，法国长大的小子，学过艺术，出过长篇，可就是没学过电影。既然如此，那么这部电影被好莱坞所抛弃也就不足为奇了，好在我们现在有网络，有DVD市场，好在人们都记得曾经为爱过不能忘的岁月。

克莱门汀的头发真是五颜六色啊，那是电影里最鲜亮的色彩，但却都是冷冷的，冷冷的蓝，冷冷的橙，走在冷冷的海边，不带帽子的时候，就是被海风吹乱的满头满脑的寂寞，别人的寂寞都是藏着的，她的寂寞却是这样的扎着眼，也不是不甘心，她只是不怕全世界都知道。后来乔尔说，她的样子真酷，我想也许他是觉得她为他说出了藏在他内心深处的寂寞。于是他们一起吃饭，然后做爱，有时候爱情真的很简单，一个人爱上另外一个人，就只因为她顶了一脑袋的绿头发。

后来我们知道，这样的一头绿发，这样的海边，只是乔尔最终要从记忆里抹去的场景之一，除此以外，他还要抹去关于克莱门汀的一切记忆，好的坏的，以及她红的绿的和蓝色的头发。爱情是个坏东西，它带给我们的伤痛总是比幸福多而且更深刻，分手的时候，为了这伤痛就像瘤子一样如影随形的附着在我们的身体里，时不时的就冒出来钻心的疼一下。让人恨不得一刀将它割了去。

这样的感觉，每个人都有过的吧，所以当我们看到乔尔拎了大袋的克莱门汀的东西跑去诊所，我们的心陪着他一起黯然，但却没有人能够说他做得不对，毕竟她已经忘记他，她用陌生的眼光看着他，那么他还要记得她做什么？

但是，忘记真的就那么好么？当他真正开始一点点的消除关于她的记忆，在他生命中的那些美好的往事就一一的浮现出来，只是幸福的感觉总是不如痛苦更切肤，他要忘记那痛，于是也想不起来曾经有过的快乐而已。直到这一天这一刻，当他躺在床上，眼睁睁的看着自己记忆里的她正在消失，一盏盏灯灭掉，一间间屋子倒掉，他才明白，原来她是他生命中最重要的一部分，忘记她，等于忘掉他自己。

真的要忘记么？忘记两个孤单的人一起相依为命的日子，一起在海边吃野餐，忘记躺在冰冻的河上看星星，一起在夜晚去探险。忘记自己曾经深深的爱付出过的感情，也忘记自己曾经被人爱。这所有的一切，都是曾经的青春岁月，都是自己曾经做为一个可爱的人活在这个世界上的证据，如果真的忘记了，记忆难道不就是只空匣子而已，掏空了，也就没有了曾经认真活过的证据。

仅仅消除记忆是不够的，所谓命中注定，就是当杀死了每个关于她的脑细胞后，你再遇她，依然会为她深深的吸引，科学是粗鲁的东西，它能做得也只是杀杀脑细胞而已，但是爱情，却不仅仅是大脑的事。我们用的是我们的心，我们的每一毛孔都会渗透着另一个人的气味，假如身体也有记忆，皮肤也有记忆，那么又用什么办法来将它们一一杀死呢？没有方法，于是乔尔又一次莫名其妙的来到和克莱门汀相遇的海边和她有一次相遇，于是他们再次相爱，她即便不是他命中注定的那一个人，适合他的，也是她那一种类型的女子。他再爱，再怎么兜兜转转一拜百次也是一样的结果，无非是找到另外一个克莱门汀而已，躲也没有用。

考夫曼这个家伙还是温暖的，也许有些发冷的只是麦克尔 嘉德纳的镜头，他们给了这个故事一个美好的结局，不算大团圆，但总是留有了一丝希望，两个人发现真相之后，终于决定在一起再走一段，这是个开放式的结尾，一切都还没有结束，结局就在遥远的将来，未必是我们所盼望的那样。但无论如何，旧的记忆随风而逝，新的记忆开始累计。如果有一天，他们真的决定离开彼此。即便是痛苦，我希望他们中的任何一个人，都不要放弃，曾经真心爱过的岁月。

我再次把这电影看一遍并非仅仅因为上次看的是SCR实在不清楚，更是因为昨天看到了ilyagram的《大象从不遗忘》以后深感当初看这部电影的时候实在是过多地看了字幕而遗忘了剧情。

每部电影对不同的观众都有不同的启示，对我而言，ETERNAL SUNSHINE讲述的是人们对于遗忘以及面对的故事。当你想要借助技术的力量来抹除生活的片段，会成功吗？即使成功，就一了百了了吗？我以前并没有看过CHARLIE KAUFMAN的电影，但是在电影中，我相信他并非认为我们可以靠自己所发明的仪器来删除我们自己的记忆。这个比喻就好象大力士无法把自己举起来。更为可笑的是，在删除之前还要靠回忆往昔的物品来给记忆“定位”，这难道又不是另一种的记忆了吗？

即使把那种种的不快、尴尬、愤怒、不甘都删除了，世界就重新明亮了起来么？我们所看到的不过是另一种形式的重新开始罢了。而且，很抱歉的是，遗忘女神在这里提醒你们，你们所面对的仍然是以前所逃避的种种。甚至，要在更直接的场合下。也就是说这世界上并不存在解千愁的灵丹妙药，只有面对问题的症结，才是通往快乐的唯一途径。

电影中引用 Alexander Pope 的 Eloisa to Abelard ，描述十二世纪法国神学家阿伯拉和他的学生相思而不得相恋的哀怨故事，其中一句就是本片的片名，根据黄香瑶的说法，意指“ 只有擺脫記憶、不再牽掛，這個斑駁的心靈才能得到救贖 ”。在电影中，当MARY说出这句诗句的时候，HORWARD医生却痛苦地不愿意回想起以前的种种，这也不能不说是一种讽刺。所以电影的最后JOEL终于能够摆脱了过去，但这一切并没有完，生活还要继续，他不是神学家，也不用献身于上帝，更没有为爱所舍弃。所以他可以继续下去。

我认为这部电影更像是一部现实主义的作品，因为它把生活中那些琐碎的，你不堪让人看到的片段拿出来放在你面前，而非单纯讲述一个关于失忆的科幻故事。特别是当你想把某人从心中抹去的那个过程，那痛苦与矛盾，恰恰和先前对因为爱情的鄙陋而形成的苦涩交织在一起，让人欲说还休。就好象在现实的生活一样，你怨恨他，想忘记他，却又欲罢不能，这难道不就是爱情的魔力吗？

所以我们能够从这里看到太多。

下面是引用诗句的翻译，让我们一起感受一下那酸楚和无望。

 聖潔女神的命運是何等幸福
How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
遺忘世界，被世界遺忘
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
無瑕的心靈散發永恆的陽光
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
接納每一個祈禱，捨棄每一個願望
Each pray’r accepted, and each wish resign’d;

原文地址：http://makzhou.blogbus.com/logs/2005/02/1013502.html

部分格式无法复制，请见谅

在Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind 里引用了一些quotations 其中一首诗的一段 作为朦胧的启发点
现在把这首长诗贴出来 来自Alexander Pope的Eloisa to Abelard

In these deep solitudes and awful cells,
    Where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells,
    And ever-musing melancholy reigns;
    What means this tumult in a vestal's veins?
    Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat?
    Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat?
    Yet, yet I love!—From Abelard it came,
    And Eloisa yet must kiss the name.

        Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd,
  Nor pass these lips in holy silence seal'd.
  Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise,
  Where mix'd with God's, his lov'd idea lies:
  O write it not, my hand—the name appears
  Already written—wash it out, my tears!
  In vain lost Eloisa weeps and prays,
  Her heart still dictates, and her hand obeys.

      Relentless walls! whose darksome round contains
  Repentant sighs, and voluntary pains:
  Ye rugged rocks! which holy knees have worn;
  Ye grots and caverns shagg'd with horrid thorn!
  Shrines! where their vigils pale-ey'd virgins keep,
  And pitying saints, whose statues learn to weep!
  Though cold like you, unmov'd, and silent grown,
  I have not yet forgot myself to stone.
  All is not Heav'n's while Abelard has part,
  Still rebel nature holds out half my heart;
  Nor pray'rs nor fasts its stubborn pulse restrain,
  Nor tears, for ages, taught to flow in vain.

      Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose,
  That well-known name awakens all my woes.
  Oh name for ever sad! for ever dear!
  Still breath'd in sighs, still usher'd with a tear.
  I tremble too, where'er my own I find,
  Some dire misfortune follows close behind.
  Line after line my gushing eyes o'erflow,
  Led through a sad variety of woe:
  Now warm in love, now with'ring in thy bloom,
  Lost in a convent's solitary gloom!
  There stern religion quench'd th' unwilling flame,
  There died the best of passions, love and fame.

      Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join
  Griefs to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine.
  Nor foes nor fortune take this pow'r away;
  And is my Abelard less kind than they?
  Tears still are mine, and those I need not spare,
  Love but demands what else were shed in pray'r;
  No happier task these faded eyes pursue;
  To read and weep is all they now can do.

      Then share thy pain, allow that sad relief;
  Ah, more than share it! give me all thy grief.
  Heav'n first taught letters for some wretch's aid,
  Some banish'd lover, or some captive maid;
  They live, they speak, they breathe what love inspires,
  Warm from the soul, and faithful to its fires,
  The virgin's wish without her fears impart,
  Excuse the blush, and pour out all the heart,
  Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul,
  And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole.

      Thou know'st how guiltless first I met thy flame,
    When Love approach'd me under Friendship's name;
  My fancy form'd thee of angelic kind,
  Some emanation of th' all-beauteous Mind.
  Those smiling eyes, attemp'ring ev'ry day,
  Shone sweetly lambent with celestial day.
  Guiltless I gaz'd; heav'n listen'd while you sung;
  And truths divine came mended from that tongue.
  From lips like those what precept fail'd to move?
  Too soon they taught me 'twas no sin to love.
  Back through the paths of pleasing sense I ran,
  Nor wish'd an Angel whom I lov'd a Man.
  Dim and remote the joys of saints I see;
  Nor envy them, that heav'n I lose for thee.

      How oft, when press'd to marriage, have I said,
  Curse on all laws but those which love has made!
  Love, free as air, at sight of human ties,
  Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies,
  Let wealth, let honour, wait the wedded dame,
  August her deed, and sacred be her fame;
  Before true passion all those views remove,
  Fame, wealth, and honour! what are you to Love?
  The jealous God, when we profane his fires,
  Those restless passions in revenge inspires;
  And bids them make mistaken mortals groan,
  Who seek in love for aught but love alone.
  Should at my feet the world's great master fall,
  Himself, his throne, his world, I'd scorn 'em all:
  Not Caesar's empress would I deign to prove;
  No, make me mistress to the man I love;
  If there be yet another name more free,
  More fond than mistress, make me that to thee!
  Oh happy state! when souls each other draw,
  When love is liberty, and nature, law:
  All then is full, possessing, and possess'd,
  No craving void left aching in the breast:
  Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part,
  And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart.
  This sure is bliss (if bliss on earth there be)
  And once the lot of Abelard and me.

      Alas, how chang'd! what sudden horrors rise!
  A naked lover bound and bleeding lies!
  Where, where was Eloise? her voice, her hand,
  Her poniard, had oppos'd the dire command.
  Barbarian, stay! that bloody stroke restrain;
  The crime was common, common be the pain.
  I can no more; by shame, by rage suppress'd,
  Let tears, and burning blushes speak the rest.

    Canst thou forget that sad, that solemn day,
  When victims at yon altar's foot we lay?
  Canst thou forget what tears that moment fell,
  When, warm in youth, I bade the world farewell?
  As with cold lips I kiss'd the sacred veil,
  The shrines all trembl'd, and the lamps grew pale:
  Heav'n scarce believ'd the conquest it survey'd,
  And saints with wonder heard the vows I made.
  Yet then, to those dread altars as I drew,
  Not on the Cross my eyes were fix'd, but you:
  Not grace, or zeal, love only was my call,
  And if I lose thy love, I lose my all.
  Come! with thy looks, thy words, relieve my woe;
  Those still at least are left thee to bestow.
  Still on that breast enamour'd let me lie,
  Still drink delicious poison from thy eye,
  Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be press'd;
  Give all thou canst—and let me dream the rest.
  Ah no! instruct me other joys to prize,
  With other beauties charm my partial eyes,
  Full in my view set all the bright abode,
  And make my soul quit Abelard for God.

    Ah, think at least thy flock deserves thy care,
  Plants of thy hand, and children of thy pray'r.
  From the false world in early youth they fled,
  By thee to mountains, wilds, and deserts led.
  You rais'd these hallow'd walls; the desert smil'd,
  And Paradise was open'd in the wild.
  No weeping orphan saw his father's stores
  Our shrines irradiate, or emblaze the floors;
  No silver saints, by dying misers giv'n,
  Here brib'd the rage of ill-requited heav'n:
  But such plain roofs as piety could raise,
  And only vocal with the Maker's praise.
  In these lone walls (their days eternal bound)
  These moss-grown domes with spiry turrets crown'd,
  Where awful arches make a noonday night,
  And the dim windows shed a solemn light;
  Thy eyes diffus'd a reconciling ray,
  And gleams of glory brighten'd all the day.
  But now no face divine contentment wears,
  'Tis all blank sadness, or continual tears.
  See how the force of others' pray'rs I try,
  (O pious fraud of am'rous charity!)
  But why should I on others' pray'rs depend?
  Come thou, my father, brother, husband, friend!
  Ah let thy handmaid, sister, daughter move,
  And all those tender names in one, thy love!
  The darksome pines that o'er yon rocks reclin'd
  Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind,
  The wand'ring streams that shine between the hills,
  The grots that echo to the tinkling rills,
  The dying gales that pant upon the trees,
  The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze;
  No more these scenes my meditation aid,
  Or lull to rest the visionary maid.
  But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves,
  Long-sounding aisles, and intermingled graves,
  Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws
  A death-like silence, and a dread repose:
  Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene,
  Shades ev'ry flow'r, and darkens ev'ry green,
  Deepens the murmur of the falling floods,
  And breathes a browner horror on the woods.

    Yet here for ever, ever must I stay;
  Sad proof how well a lover can obey!
  Death, only death, can break the lasting chain;
  And here, ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain,
  Here all its frailties, all its flames resign,
  And wait till 'tis no sin to mix with thine.

    Ah wretch! believ'd the spouse of God in vain,
  Confess'd within the slave of love and man.
  Assist me, Heav'n! but whence arose that pray'r?
  Sprung it from piety, or from despair?
  Ev'n here, where frozen chastity retires,
  Love finds an altar for forbidden fires.
  I ought to grieve, but cannot what I ought;
  I mourn the lover, not lament the fault;
  I view my crime, but kindle at the view,
  Repent old pleasures, and solicit new;
  Now turn'd to Heav'n, I weep my past offence,
  Now think of thee, and curse my innocence.
  Of all affliction taught a lover yet,
  'Tis sure the hardest science to forget!
  How shall I lose the sin, yet keep the sense,
  And love th' offender, yet detest th' offence?
  How the dear object from the crime remove,
  Or how distinguish penitence from love?
  Unequal task! a passion to resign,
  For hearts so touch'd, so pierc'd, so lost as mine.
  Ere such a soul regains its peaceful state,
  How often must it love, how often hate!
  How often hope, despair, resent, regret,
  Conceal, disdain—do all things but forget.
  But let Heav'n seize it, all at once 'tis fir'd;
  Not touch'd, but rapt; not waken'd, but inspir'd!
  Oh come! oh teach me nature to subdue,
  Renounce my love, my life, myself—and you.
  Fill my fond heart with God alone, for he
  Alone can rival, can succeed to thee.

    How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
  The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
  Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
  Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;
  Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
  "Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep;"
  Desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n,
  Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heav'n.
  Grace shines around her with serenest beams,
  And whisp'ring angels prompt her golden dreams.
  For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms,
  And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes,
  For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,
  For her white virgins hymeneals sing,
  To sounds of heav'nly harps she dies away,
  And melts in visions of eternal day.

    Far other dreams my erring soul employ,
  Far other raptures, of unholy joy:
  When at the close of each sad, sorrowing day,
  Fancy restores what vengeance snatch'd away,
  Then conscience sleeps, and leaving nature free,
  All my loose soul unbounded springs to thee.
  Oh curs'd, dear horrors of all-conscious night!
  How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight!
  Provoking Daemons all restraint remove,
  And stir within me every source of love.
  I hear thee, view thee, gaze o'er all thy charms,
  And round thy phantom glue my clasping arms.
  I wake—no more I hear, no more I view,
  The phantom flies me, as unkind as you.
  I call aloud; it hears not what I say;
  I stretch my empty arms; it glides away.
  To dream once more I close my willing eyes;
  Ye soft illusions, dear deceits, arise!
  Alas, no more—methinks we wand'ring go
  Through dreary wastes, and weep each other's woe,
  Where round some mould'ring tower pale ivy creeps,
  And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps.
  Sudden you mount, you beckon from the skies;
  Clouds interpose, waves roar, and winds arise.
  I shriek, start up, the same sad prospect find,
  And wake to all the griefs I left behind.

    For thee the fates, severely kind, ordain
  A cool suspense from pleasure and from pain;
  Thy life a long, dead calm of fix'd repose;
  No pulse that riots, and no blood that glows.
  Still as the sea, ere winds were taught to blow,
  Or moving spirit bade the waters flow;
  Soft as the slumbers of a saint forgiv'n,
  And mild as opening gleams of promis'd heav'n.

    Come, Abelard! for what hast thou to dread?
  The torch of Venus burns not for the dead.
  Nature stands check'd; Religion disapproves;
  Ev'n thou art cold—yet Eloisa loves.
  Ah hopeless, lasting flames! like those that burn
  To light the dead, and warm th' unfruitful urn.

    What scenes appear where'er I turn my view?
  The dear ideas, where I fly, pursue,
  Rise in the grove, before the altar rise,
  Stain all my soul, and wanton in my eyes.
  I waste the matin lamp in sighs for thee,
  Thy image steals between my God and me,
  Thy voice I seem in ev'ry hymn to hear,
  With ev'ry bead I drop too soft a tear.
  When from the censer clouds of fragrance roll,
  And swelling organs lift the rising soul,
  One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight,
  Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight:
  In seas of flame my plunging soul is drown'd,
  While altars blaze, and angels tremble round.

    While prostrate here in humble grief I lie,
  Kind, virtuous drops just gath'ring in my eye,
  While praying, trembling, in the dust I roll,
  And dawning grace is op'ning on my soul:
  Come, if thou dar'st, all charming as thou art!
  Oppose thyself to Heav'n; dispute my heart;
  Come, with one glance of those deluding eyes
  Blot out each bright idea of the skies;
  Take back that grace, those sorrows, and those tears;
  Take back my fruitless penitence and pray'rs;
  Snatch me, just mounting, from the blest abode;
  Assist the fiends, and tear me from my God!

    No, fly me, fly me, far as pole from pole;
  Rise Alps between us! and whole oceans roll!
  Ah, come not, write not, think not once of me,
  Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee.
  Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign;
  Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine.
  Fair eyes, and tempting looks (which yet I view!)
  Long lov'd, ador'd ideas, all adieu!
  Oh Grace serene! oh virtue heav'nly fair!
  Divine oblivion of low-thoughted care!
  Fresh blooming hope, gay daughter of the sky!
  And faith, our early immortality!
  Enter, each mild, each amicable guest;
  Receive, and wrap me in eternal rest!

    See in her cell sad Eloisa spread,
  Propp'd on some tomb, a neighbour of the dead.
  In each low wind methinks a spirit calls,
  And more than echoes talk along the walls.
  Here, as I watch'd the dying lamps around,
  From yonder shrine I heard a hollow sound.
  "Come, sister, come!" (it said, or seem'd to say)
  "Thy place is here, sad sister, come away!
  Once like thyself, I trembled, wept, and pray'd,
  Love's victim then, though now a sainted maid:
  But all is calm in this eternal sleep;
  Here grief forgets to groan, and love to weep,
  Ev'n superstition loses ev'ry fear:
  For God, not man, absolves our frailties here."

    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!
  Ah no—in sacred vestments may'st thou stand,
  The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand,
  Present the cross before my lifted eye,
  Teach me at once, and learn of me to die.
  Ah then, thy once-lov'd Eloisa see!
  It will be then no crime to gaze on me.
  See from my cheek the transient roses fly!
  See the last sparkle languish in my eye!
  Till ev'ry motion, pulse, and breath be o'er;
  And ev'n my Abelard be lov'd no more.
  O Death all-eloquent! you only prove
  What dust we dote on, when 'tis man we love.

    Then too, when fate shall thy fair frame destroy,
  (That cause of all my guilt, and all my joy)
  In trance ecstatic may thy pangs be drown'd,
  Bright clouds descend, and angels watch thee round,
  From op'ning skies may streaming glories shine,
  And saints embrace thee with a love like mine.

    May one kind grave unite each hapless name,
  And graft my love immortal on thy fame!
  Then, ages hence, when all my woes are o'er,
  When this rebellious heart shall beat no more;
  If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings
  To Paraclete's white walls and silver springs,
  O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads,
  And drink the falling tears each other sheds;
  Then sadly say, with mutual pity mov'd,
  "Oh may we never love as these have lov'd!"

  From the full choir when loud Hosannas rise,
  And swell the pomp of dreadful sacrifice,
  Amid that scene if some relenting eye
  Glance on the stone where our cold relics lie,
  Devotion's self shall steal a thought from Heav'n,
  One human tear shall drop and be forgiv'n.
  And sure, if fate some future bard shall join
  In sad similitude of griefs to mine,
  Condemn'd whole years in absence to deplore,
  And image charms he must behold no more;
  Such if there be, who loves so long, so well;
  Let him our sad, our tender story tell;
  The well-sung woes will soothe my pensive ghost;
  He best can paint 'em, who shall feel 'em most.