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Ben Jonson
1572 - 1637
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Epistle To Elizabeth Countesse Of Rutland
Madame, / VVhil'st that, for which all vertue now is sold, / And almost every vice, almightie gold,
Epistle: To Katherine, Lady Aubigny
'Tis growne almost a danger to speake true / Of any good minde, now: There are so few. / The bad, by number, are so fortified,
Epitaph On Elizabeth
Wouldst thou hear what man can say / In a little? Reader, stay. / Underneath this stone doth lie
Epitaph On S.P., A Child Of Queen Elizabeth's Chapel
Weep with me, all you that read / This little story; / And know for whom a tear you shed,
Epode
Not to know vice at all, and keepe true state, / Is vertue, and not Fate: / Next, to that vertue, is to know vice well,
Evening: Barents Sea
The trawl of unquiet mind drops astern / Great lucid streamers bar the sky ahead / (bifurcated banners at a tourney)
For A Girl In A Book
Kim, composite of all my loves, / less real than most, more real than all; / of my making, all the good and
From - Witches' Song
The owl is abroad,the bat and the toad, / And so is the cat-a mountain, / The ant and the mole sit both in a hole,
Gypsy Songs
I / The faery beam upon you, / The stars to glister on you;
Have You Seen But A Bright Lily Grow
Have you seen but a bright lily grow / Before rude hands have touched it? / Have you marked but the fall of snow
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