John Wilmot, Sonnet 1
Dear Johnny, Black Johnny, sweet shattered, Shadow John
Thou man of tempest heart and tattered lace
Come share the broken bed that I lay on,
Vouchsafe the ravaged beauty of your face
And we will feed the hungry beast so well
That it may sleep in peace a day or so
The tyrant waves calm to a gentle swell
The tempering blaze die to a softer glow
Till passion rises once more and we’re pressed
To hectic preparation of the feast
That lures to table a voracious lust
That consumes the will and animates the beast
Through all-exalting pleasure, in the soul;
We need each other’s halves, to make us whole.
