Classic Poem

Propitious Keeper of this friendly Gate,
Kind Slave! whose Worth deserves a gentler Fate,
With Speed, best Proof of thy obliging Care,
Admit me softly to the sleeping Fair.
Nor need'st thou fear, the creaking Hinge's Noise
Shou'd spread the dang'rous Secret of my Joys.
The narrowest Gap will serve for my Essay,
And to my Bliss present an open Way.
Love to this apter Size my Form suppress'd,
And breath'd superiour Valour in my Breast.
The surly Watch he shews me to evade,
And pass securely thro' the dusky Shade:
E'er-while I fear'd the Visions of the Night,
The horrid Daemon, or the glaring Sprite,
I thought it terrible abroad to dare,
When restless Ghosts from silent Graves repair,
Stalk thro' the solemn Gloom, and revel in the Air.
Love smiling saw, and, swoln with sovereign Pride,
" Be thou a Champion in my Cause," he cried.
Straight I my lonely Course by Midnight steer,
Nor lurking Braves, nor ghastly Spectres fear.
Thou, too unmindful Slave! 'tis only thou,
My Breast can soften, and my Courage bow.
What Lover can thy stern Repulse endure?
Like Thunder it alarms, and kills as sure.
Why dost thou envy what the Fates approve?
This happy Hour was destin'd for my Love.
Hast thou forgot, Ingrate! when, pale with Fear,
Thou saw'st the Slaves the dreaded Lash prepare?
How with thy Mistress I my Interest us'd,
Thy Pardon pleaded, and thy Doom excus'd?
The Tongue, that then so well could plead for thee,
Ah worthless Wretch! now vainly sues for me.
Requite my Kindness now an easy Way,
Easy, wert thou but grateful to repay.
Still must I plead, still unregarded wait?
Night fast expires, unbar the envious Gate.

So shall my Suit thy Liberty obtain,
And thy freed Limbs no more endure the Chain;
Thy Hunger homely Pulse no more assuage,
Nor servile Water quench thy thirsty Rage.
Confusion! — — Dare the Slave refuse to hear?
Nor yet unbarr'd the massy Gates appear.
When hostile Troops some threaten'd Town enclose,
Such Strength is needful to resist the Foes:
But since with Peace and Silence Love agrees,
What can'st thou fear from one allied to these?
If thus thou lett'st a Lover vainly grieve,
What Usage must a hated Foe receive?
Still must I plead, still unregarded wait?
Night fast expires, unbar the envious Gate.

No savage Band thy peaceful Watch alarms,
No treacherous Foe, disguis'd in horrid Arms.
Defenceless, and alone, I make request;
Alone, were Love divided from my Breast:
But, oh! what Art can free me from his Chain?
Fond is the Hope, and all Contention vain!
The God himself e'en now my Soul inspires,
And the full Glass provokes to soft Desires:
These, with the Wreath that binds my flowing Hair,
Are all the fear'd, the powerful Arms I bear.
Who from such harmless Weapons dreads his Fate?
Night fast expires, unbar the envious Gate?

Does Negligence, or Sleep, thy Soul surprize?
Sleep, that for ever shuns the Lover's Eyes:
When brib'd, thou cou'd'st indulging Rest forsake,
And wait my Sign, the live-long Night awake:
Perhaps thy Arms some lovely Maid entwine;
Alas, how happier is thy Lot than mine!
Gladly I'd bear thy Chains, were such my Fate;
Night fast expires, unbar the envious Gate?

Hark! or my Senses, to deceive me, join,
Or, from within, I hear th' awaited Sign: — —
... Faise was th' Alarm, a sudden boist'rous Gale
Did, with rude Gust, th' unyielding Gate assail.
What pleasing Hopes did all my Soul employ!
Ah me! how high that Gale uprais'd my Joy!
Propitious Boreas , if Orithyia 's Charms
Were ever dear to thy desiring Arms,
On these relentless Doors thy Pow'r display,
And in a furious Tempest force my Way.
The City wrapt in downy Silence lies,
And chilly Dew thick hovers in the Skies.
Still must I plead, still unregarded wait?
Night fast expires, unbar the envious Gate.

To what Extremes will Love and Wine enflame
Since both are void of Fear, and Night of Shame
No Threat, no Prayer, my hopeless Toil awards,
The Wretch is harder than the Gate he guards,
Unmeet to tend the Fair, thou shou'd'st remain
In Prison bound, and wear a heavier Chain.
The silent Reign of chilly Night decays;
And now the Gloom is pierc'd with orient Rays
Faint Sun-Beams glimmer in the bright'ning Air
And Lab'rers to their daily Toils repair:
No more the Time in fruitless Pray'rs I'll waste,
But on these Steps my mournful Garland cast.
Thy Mistress, chancing on th' unwelcome Sight,
Shall know how anxious prov'd th' unfav'ring Night.
Adieu, unfriendly Slave, — — and be thy Breast
With am'rous Tortures, fierce as mine, oppress'd,
Relentless Bar, ye Gates unfriendly too!
All (tho' conspir'd to blast my Joys) — — adieu .