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An Ode For Ben Jonson

Rating: 3.1
Ah Ben!
Say how or when
Shall we, thy guests,
Meet at those lyric feasts,
Made at the Sun,
The Dog, the Triple Tun;
Where we such clusters had,
As made us nobly wild, not mad?
And yet each verse of thine
Out-did the meat, out-did the frolic wine.
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COMMENTS
Ned Coates 04 April 2013
What a wonderful first stanza. i would rate it a ten, with wild, not mad being brilliantly perfect. The second stanza doesn't get beyond the convention in a way that Herrick often does with his word choice. But still a wonderful poem.
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