When torturing Amor laid hold of me, seizing my hair

And dragging me, wounding me, ordered a vigil till dawn.

'Oh heart of stone, how canst thou lie here alone?' said the God,

'Thou joy of a thousand sweet mistresses, how, oh my slave?'

In disarrayed nightrobe I leap to bare feet and essay

To follow all paths; but a road can discover by none.

One moment I hasten; the next it is torture to move,

It irks me again to turn back, shame forbids me to halt

And stand in the midst of the road. Lo! the voices of men,

The roar of the streets, and the songs of the birds, and the bark

Of vigilant watch-dogs are hushed! Alone, I of all

Society dread both my slumber and couch, and obey

Great Lord of the Passions, thy mandate which on me was laid."