Ben Jonson Poems
|82.||That Women Are But Men's Shadows||4/9/2010|
|84.||Inviting A Friend To Supper||4/9/2010|
|85.||A Hymn To God The Father||4/9/2010|
|86.||Christmas, His Masque (Extract)||4/9/2010|
|87.||A Sonnet, To The Noble Lady, The Lady Mary Wroth||4/9/2010|
|88.||My Picture Left In Scotland||1/20/2003|
|89.||Have You Seen But A Bright Lily Grow||4/9/2010|
|90.||Blaney's Last Directions||4/9/2010|
|91.||I: Why I Write Not To Love||4/9/2010|
|92.||On My First Daughter||4/9/2010|
|93.||To John Donne||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.||The Noble Nature||4/9/2010|
|98.||A Farewell To The World||4/9/2010|
|100.||An Ode To Himself||4/9/2010|
|101.||For A Girl In A Book||4/9/2010|
|102.||His Excuse For Loving||1/20/2003|
|104.||Come, My Celia||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.
His Excuse For Loving
Let it not your wonder move,
Less your laughter, that I love.
Though I now write fifty years,
I have had, and have, my peers.
Poets, though divine, are men;
Some have loved as old again.
And it is not always face,
Clothes, or fortune gives the grace,
Or the feature, or the youth;