Ben Jonson Poems
|81.||On Something, That Walks Somewhere||4/9/2010|
|83.||I: Why I Write Not To Love||4/9/2010|
|84.||A Hymn To God The Father||4/9/2010|
|85.||Christmas, His Masque (Extract)||4/9/2010|
|86.||A Sonnet, To The Noble Lady, The Lady Mary Wroth||4/9/2010|
|88.||That Women Are But Men's Shadows||4/9/2010|
|89.||To John Donne||4/9/2010|
|90.||My Picture Left In Scotland||1/20/2003|
|91.||Blaney's Last Directions||4/9/2010|
|92.||Have You Seen But A Bright Lily Grow||4/9/2010|
|93.||On My First Daughter||4/9/2010|
|94.||Song To Celia Ii||4/9/2010|
|95.||A Fit Of Rhyme Against Rhyme||4/9/2010|
|96.||Ode To Sir William Sydney, On His Birthday||4/9/2010|
|97.||A Farewell To The World||4/9/2010|
|99.||The Noble Nature||4/9/2010|
|100.||An Ode To Himself||4/9/2010|
|101.||His Excuse For Loving||1/20/2003|
|103.||Come, My Celia||4/9/2010|
|104.||For A Girl In A Book||4/9/2010|
|105.||On My First Son||1/20/2003|
Comments about 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.
Drinke to me, onely, with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kisse but in the cup,
And Ile not looke for wine.
The thirst, that from the soule doth rise,
Doth aske a drinke divine:
But might I of Jove's Nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee, late, a rosie wreath,