What need of fire or sword? myself alone,More pow'rful, than or sword or fire am grown.Around your heads shall flaming torches fly,And Jove the house shall burn, as well as I.Night, love, and wine encourage and inflame:These triumph over fear, and that o'er shame.All ways I've tried, but all successless prove,Nor threats can fright thee, nor entreaties move;Deaf to my pray'rs as to my tears thou'rt blind,Thy gate is less obdurate than thy mind.But see, the ruddy morn begins to rise,And paints with rosy streaks the eastern skies,While crowing cocks the lab'rer's sloth revile,And summon wretches to their daily toil.Throw then, fond man, thy fragrant chaplet by,And let it at thy lady's threshold lie.When in the morn thy faded flow'rs she spies,Kind thoughts of me may in her bosom rise,Perhaps she may resent her porter's crime,And grieve that here so ill I spent my time.