"An Ode to Himself" (Ben Jonson, 1631)

    Ben Jonson :: Life and Times :: Internet Shakespeare Editions (image credit: Internet Shakespeare)

    About Ben Jonson

    "Ben Jonson is among the best-known writers and theorists of English Renaissance literature, second         in reputation only to Shakespeare. A prolific dramatist and a man of letters highly learned in the                 classics, he profoundly influenced the Augustan age through his emphasis on the precepts of Horace,         Aristotle, and other classical Greek and Latin thinkers. While he is now remembered primarily for his         satirical comedies, he also distinguished himself as a poet, preeminent writer of masques, erudite             defender of his work, and the originator of English literary criticism."

     To read more about Ben Jonson and read some of his poems, refer to poetryfoundation.org/poets/ben-         jonson.

    "An Ode to Himself" (Ben Jonson, 1631)     

    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 up? lies Thespia waste?
        Doth Clarius' harp want strings,
        That not a nymph now sings?
        Or droop they as disgrac'd,
        To see their seats and bowers by chatt'ring pies defac'd?

        If hence thy silence be,
        As 'tis too just a cause,
        Let this thought quicken thee:
        Minds that are great and free
        Should not on fortune pause;
        'Tis crown enough to virtue still, her own applause.

        What though the greedy fry
        Be taken with false baites
        Of worded balladry,
        And think it poesy?
        They die with their conceits,
        And only piteous scorn upon their folly waits.

         Then take in hand thy lyre,
         Strike in thy proper strain,
         With Japhet's line aspire
         Sol's chariot for new fire, 
         To give the world again;
     Who aided him will thee, the issue of Jove's brain.

         And since our dainty age
         Cannot endure reproof,
     Make not thyself a page
     To that strumpet, the stage,
 But sing high and aloof, 
     Safe from the wolf's black jaw and the dull ass's hoof.

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