John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester (1647–1680)

DEAR, from thine arms then let me fly,

That my fantastic mind may prove

The torments it deserves to try,

That tears my fixed heart from my love.

When wearied with a world of woe

To thy safe bosom I retire,

Where love, and peace, and truth, do flow,

May I contented there expire!

Lest, once more wandering from that heaven,

I fall on some base heart unblest,

Faithless to thee, false, unforgiven,

And lose my everlasting rest.