Ben Jonson

(11 June 1572 – 6 August 1637 / London / England)

Ben Jonson Poems

1. To Celia 1/20/2003
2. The Noble Balm 4/9/2010
3. To Francis Beaumont 4/9/2010
4. To Censorious Courtling 3/7/2012
5. Third Charm from Masque of Queens 11/23/2015
6. The Metamorphosed Gypsies (Excerpt) 4/9/2010
7. Simplex Munditiis 4/9/2010
8. A Pangyre 4/9/2010
9. Epitaph On The Countess Of Pembroke 4/9/2010
10. Evening: Barents Sea 4/9/2010
11. Christmas, His Masque (Extract) 4/9/2010
12. A Celebration Of Charis: Iv. Her Triumph 4/9/2010
13. Nine Stages Towards Knowing 4/9/2010
14. On Elizabeth L. H. 4/9/2010
15. Xiii: Epistle: To Katherine, Lady Aubigny 4/9/2010
16. Xi: Epode 4/9/2010
17. The Speech 4/9/2010
18. Viii: Song: To Sicknesse 4/9/2010
19. A Hymn On The Nativity Of My Saviour 3/7/2012
20. Praeludium 4/9/2010
21. Song: From Cynthia's Revels 4/9/2010
22. Song: To Cynthia 4/9/2010
23. Porth Ceiriad Bay 4/9/2010
24. Blaney's Last Directions 4/9/2010
25. In The Ember Days Of My Last Free Summer 4/9/2010
26. Xii: Epistle To Elizabeth Countesse Of Rutland 4/9/2010
27. The Thames At Mortlake 4/9/2010
28. The Triumph Of Charis 4/9/2010
29. Vii: Song: That Women Are But Mens Shaddows 4/9/2010
30. Hymn To The Belly 3/20/2015
31. Venus' Runaway 4/9/2010
32. X: And Must I Sing? 4/9/2010
33. The Alchemist: Prologue 4/9/2010
34. On Don Surly 4/9/2010
35. Iv: To The World 4/9/2010
36. Epitaph On S.P., A Child Of Queen Elizabeth's Chapel 4/9/2010
37. An Elegy 4/9/2010
38. To Doctor Empiric 3/7/2012
39. Vi: To The Same 4/9/2010
40. To Lucy, Countess Of Bedford, With John Donne's Satires 4/9/2010
Best Poem of Ben Jonson

On My First Son

Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy;
My sin was too much hope of thee, lov'd boy.
Seven years thou'wert lent to me, and I thee pay,
Exacted by thy fate, on the just day.
O, could I lose all father now! For why
Will man lament the state he should envy?
To have so soon 'scap'd world's and flesh's rage,
And, if no other misery, yet age?
Rest in soft peace, and, ask'd, say here doth lie
Ben Jonson his best piece of poetry.
For whose sake, henceforth, all his vows be such,
As what he loves may never like too much.

Read the full of On My First Son

A Hymn To God The Father

Hear me, O God!
A broken heart
Is my best part.
Use still thy rod,
That I may prove
Therein thy Love.

If thou hadst not
Been stern to me,

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