Ad Fanitorem, ut fores sibi aperiat

Unworthy porter, bound in chains full sore,
On moved hooks set ope the churlish door.
Little I ask, a little entrance make;
The gate half-ope my bent side in will take.
Long love my body to such use makes slender,
And to get out doth like apt members render.
He shows me how unheard to pass the watch,
And guides my feet lest stumbling falls they catch.
But in times past I feared vain shades, and night,
Wond'ring if any walked without light.
Love hearing it laughed with his tender mother,
And smiling said, " Be thou as bold as other."
Forthwith Love came: no dark night-flying sprite,
Nor hands prepared to slaughter, me affright.
Thee fear I too much, only thee I flatter,
Thy lightning can my life in pieces batter.
Why enviest me? this hostile den unbar,
See how the gates with my tears watered are.
When thou stood'st naked, ready to be beat,
For thee I did thy mistress fair entreat;
But what entreats for thee sometimes took place
(O mischief) now for me obtain small grace.
Gratis thou mayst be free, give like for like,
Night goes away: the door's bar backward strike.
Strike, so again hard chains shall bind thee never,
Nor servile water shalt thou drink for ever.
Hard-hearted porter, dost and wilt not hear?
With stiff oak propped the gate doth still appear.
Such rampired gates besieged cities aid,
In midst of peace why art of arms afraid?
Exclud'st a lover, how would'st use a foe?
Strike back the bar, night fast away doth go.
With arms or armed men I come not guarded,
I am alone, were furious Love discarded.
Although I would, I cannot him cashier
Before I be divided from my gear.
See Love with me, wine moderate in my brain,
And on my hairs a crown of flowers remain.
Who fears these arms? who will not go to meet them?
Night runs away; with open entrance greet them.
Art careless? or is't sleep forbids thee hear,
Giving the winds my words running in thine ear?
Well I remember when I first did hire thee,
Watching till after midnight did not tire thee;
But now perchance thy wench with thee doth rest —
Ah, how thy lot is above my lot blest!
Though it be so, shut me not out therefore;
Night goes away, I pray thee ope the door.
Err we? or do the turned hinges sound,
And opening doors with creaking noise abound?
We err: a strong blast seemed the gates to ope;
Aye me, how high that gale did lift my hope!
If, Boreas, bears Oreithyia's rape in mind,
Come break these deaf doors with thy boisterous wind.
Silent the city is: night's dewy host
March fast away; the bar strike from the post,
Or I more stern than fire or sword will turn
And with my brand these gorgeous houses burn.
Night, love, and wine to all extremes persuade;
Night shameless, wine and love are fearless made.
All have I spent: no threats or prayers move thee;
O harder than the doors thou guard'st I prove thee.
No pretty wench's keeper mayst thou be:
The careful prison is more meet for thee.
Now frosty night her flight begins to take,
And crowing cocks poor souls to work awake;
But thou my crown, from sad hairs ta'en away,
On this hard threshold till the morning lay,
That when my mistress there beholds thee cast,
She may perceive how we the time did waste.
Whate'er thou art, farewell; be like me pained,
Careless, farewell, with my fault not distained!
And farewell cruel posts, rough threshold's block,
And doors conjoined with an hard iron lock!