Ben Jonson Poems (127 Poems)
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A Pindaric Ode (Ben Jonson Poem)
THE TURN Brave infant of Saguntum, clear Thy coming forth in that great year, When the prodigious Hannibal did crown His rage with razing your immortal town. Thou looking then about, Ere thou wert half got out, Wise child, didst … Continue reading
An Ode to Himself (Ben Jonson Poem)
Where dost thou careless lie, Buried in ease and sloth? Knowledge that sleeps doth die; And this security, It is the common moth That eats on wits and arts, and oft destroys them both. Are all th’ Aonian springs Dried … Continue reading
Ode to Himself upon the Censure of his New Inn (Ben Jonson Poem)
Come, leave the loathed stage, And the more loathsome age; Where pride and impudence, in faction knit, Usurp the chair of wit! Indicting and arraigning every day Something they call a play. Let their fastidious, vain Commission of the brain … Continue reading
A Celebration of Charis: IV. Her Triumph (Ben Jonson Poem)
See the chariot at hand here of Love, Wherein my lady rideth! Each that draws is a swan or a dove, And well the car Love guideth. As she goes, all hearts do duty Unto her beauty; And enamour’d, do … Continue reading
The Triumph (Ben Jonson Poem)
SEE the Chariot at hand here of Love, Wherein my Lady rideth! Each that draws is a swan or a dove, And well the car Love guideth. As she goes, all hearts do duty Unto her beauty; And enamour’d do … Continue reading
So Breaks The Sun (Ben Jonson Poem)
So breaks the sun earth’s rugged chains, Wherein rude winter bound her veins; So grows both stream and source of price, That lately fettered were with ice. So naked trees get crisped heads, And colored coats the roughest meads, And … Continue reading
Venus’ Runaway (Ben Jonson Poems)
Beauties, have ye seen this toy, Called Love, a little boy, Almost naked, wanton, blind; Cruel now, and then as kind? If he be amongst ye, say? He is Venus’ runaway. She that will but now discover Where the winged … Continue reading
A Celebration of Charis: I. His Excuse for Loving (Ben Jonson Poem)
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 lov’d as old again. And it is not … Continue reading
Hymn To Diana (Ben Jonson Poem)
Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; … Continue reading
A Part of an Ode (Ben Jonson Poem)
to the Immortal Memory and Friendship of that noble pair, Sir Lucius Cary and Sir H. Morison IT is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To … Continue reading
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