Ben Jonson Poems
|82.||That Women Are But Men's Shadows||4/9/2010|
|83.||I: Why I Write Not To Love||4/9/2010|
|84.||Epitaph On S.P., A Child Of Queen Elizabeth's Chapel||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.||A Hymn To God The Father||4/9/2010|
|90.||To John Donne||4/9/2010|
|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.||The Noble Nature||4/9/2010|
|96.||Ode To Sir William Sydney, On His Birthday||4/9/2010|
|97.||A Fit Of Rhyme Against Rhyme||4/9/2010|
|98.||A Farewell To The World||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.
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;