Maxioms by Ben Jonson
This figure that thou here seest put,
It was for gentle Shakespeare cut,
Wherein the graver had read more
This figure that thou here seest put,
It was for gentle Shakespeare cut,
Wherein the graver had a strife
With Nature, to outdo the life:
Oh, could he but have drawn his wit
As well in brass, as he has hit
His face, the print would then surpass
All that was ever writ in brass;
But since he cannot, reader, look
Not on his picture, but his book.
In the hope to meet
Shortly again, and make our absence sweet.
In the hope to meet
Shortly again, and make our absence sweet.
The gods
Grow angry with your patience. 'Tis their care,
And must be yours, that guilty men read more
The gods
Grow angry with your patience. 'Tis their care,
And must be yours, that guilty men escape not:
As crimes do grow, justice should rouse itself.
He was not of an age, but for all time!
And all the Muses still were in their prime,
read more
He was not of an age, but for all time!
And all the Muses still were in their prime,
When, like Apollo, he came forth to warm
Our ears, or like a Mercury to charm!
I am grieved that it should be said he is my brother, and take these courses. Well, as he brews, read more
I am grieved that it should be said he is my brother, and take these courses. Well, as he brews, so shall he drink, for George again. Yet he shall hear on't, and tightly, too, an' I live, i'faith.