GetPassage urn:cts:latinLit:phi0959.phi001.perseus-eng2:1.6.1-1.6.18 urn:cts:latinLit:phi0959.phi001.perseus-eng2:1.6.1-1.6.18

Slave, if thou worthy of thy chains wouldst be,A grateful office do to love and me.Unbar the wicket, and a friend admit;The trouble is not much, nor favour great.I ask thee not to spread the foldings wide;Keep it at jar,-I'll softly by thee slide.I to love's labours have so long been us'd,My shapes are to a lath's lank size reduc'd.The smallest crevice will my bus'ness do,It cannot be so straight but I'll slip through.Love guides me when by night I walk the street,And when I grope my way directs my feet.By night I was a youth afraid to walk,Frighted by children and old nurses' talk;I wonder'd men could wander in the gloom,And kept, for fear of spirits, close at home.Love and his mother, when they knew my care,Cried, "Fool, thou shalt not long these phantoms fear."