Here you will find the Poem The Retreat of poet Henry King
Pursue no more (my thoughts!) that false unkind, You may assoon imprison the North-wind; Or catch the Lightning as it leaps; or reach The leading billow first ran down the breach; Or undertake the flying clouds to track In the same path they yesterday did rack. Then, like a Torch turn'd downward, let the same Desire which nourisht it, put out your flame. Loe thus I doe divorce thee from my brest, False to thy vow, and traitour to my rest! Henceforth thy tears shall be (though thou repent) Like pardons after execution sent. Nor shalt thou ever my loves story read, But as some Epitaph of what is dead. So may my hope on future blessings dwell, As 'tis my firm resolve and last farewell.
