Ben Jonson

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.

The master of art or giver of wit,
Their belly.

The master of art or giver of wit,
Their belly.

The voice so sweet, the words so fair,
As some soft chime had stroked the air;
And read more

The voice so sweet, the words so fair,
As some soft chime had stroked the air;
And though the sound had parted thence,
Still left an echo in the sense.

'Tis no sin love's fruits to steal;
But the sweet thefts to reveal;
To be taken, to read more

'Tis no sin love's fruits to steal;
But the sweet thefts to reveal;
To be taken, to be seen,
These have crimes accounted been.

They say Princes learn no art truly, but the art of horsemanship.
The reason is, the brave beast is read more

They say Princes learn no art truly, but the art of horsemanship.
The reason is, the brave beast is no flatterer. He will throw a
Prince as soon as his groom.