Ben Jonson Poems

Rhyme, the rack of finest wits,
That expresseth but by fits
True conceit,
...

Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I'll not look for wine.
...

Here lies, to each her parents' ruth,
Mary, the daughter of their youth;
Yet all heaven's gifts being heaven's due,
...

Have you seen but a bright lily grow
Before rude hands have touched it?
Have you marked but the fall of snow
Before the soil hath smutched it?
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It is usual
for people in this country
(out of pretended respect
but rather from an impertinent curiosity)
...

It is not growing like a tree
in bulk, doth make Man better be;
or standing long an oak three hundred year,
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I now think love is rather deaf, than blind,
For else it could not be,
That she,
Whom I adore so much, should so slight me,
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I that have been a lover, and could show it,
Though not in these, in rhymes not wholly dumb,
Since I exscribe your sonnets, am become
...

Why Gentlemen, doe you know what you doe? ha!
Would you ha'kept me out? Christmas, old Christmas?
Christmas of London, and Captaine Christmas?
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Hear me, O God!
A broken heart
Is my best part.
Use still thy rod,
...