Ben Jonson.

-000

Soul of the age!

The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage!
My Shakspere rise! I will not lodge thee by
Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie
A little further, to make thee a room;
Thou art a monument without a tomb,

And art alive still, while thy book doth live,
And we have wits to read and praise to give.

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!

*

Sweet Swan of Avon! what a sight it were
To see thee in our water yet appear,

And make those slights upon the banks of Thames,

That so did take Eliza and our James.

Lines to the Memory of Shakspere.

Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,

And I'll not look for wine.*

Song. To Celia.

Underneath this sable hearse
Lies the subject of all verse,
Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother;
Death! ere thou hast slain another,
Learn'd and fair, and good as she,
Time shall throw a dart at thee.

Epitaph on the Countess of Pembroke.

* This song is frequently attributed to Tom Moore.

When gospel-trumpeter, surrounded
With long-ear'd rout, to battle sounded,
And pulpit, drum ecclesiastic,

Was beat with fist instead of a stick.

Compound for sins they are inclin'd to,
By damning those they have no mind to.

Lines 215, 216.

He ne'er consider'd it as loth

To look a gift-horse in the mouth;

And very wisely would lay forth.

No more upon

it than 't was worth.

Lines 489-492.

And bid the devil take the hindmost,
Which at this race is like to win most.

Part I. Canto II. Lines 633, 634.

Ay me! what perils do environ

The man that meddles with cold iron!
What plaguy mischiefs and mishaps

Do dog him still with after-claps!

Quoth Hudibras, friend Ralph, thou hast
Outrun the constable at last.

Lines 1367, 1368.

I've heard old cunning stagers

Say, fools for arguments use wagers.

*

Part II. Canto I. Lines 297, 298.

'Tis virtue, wit, and worth, and all

That men divine and sacred call:

* "For most men (till by losing rendered sager) Will back their own opinions with a wager."

Lord Byron's Beppo. Stanza 27.

For what is worth in anything,

But so much money as 't will bring?

Part II.

Canto 1. Lines 463-466.

Love is a boy by poets styl'd,

Then spare the rod and spoil the child.*

Lines 843, 844.

Why should not conscience have vacation,
As well as other courts o' th' nation?

Part II.

Canto II. Lines 317, 318.

Y' had best, quoth Ralpho, as the ancients
Say wisely,-Have a care o' th' main chance,

And look before you ere you leap;

For as you sow, y'are like to reap.+

Lines 501-504.

Doubtless the pleasure is as great,

Of being cheated as to cheat.

Part II. Canto III.

Quoth Sidrophel, If you suppose,
Sir Knight, that I am one of those,
I might suspect, and take th' alarm,

Lines I, 2.

"He that spareth his rod, hateth his son."-ProVERBS, chap. xiii. verse 24.

+ "Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." — GALATIANS, chap. vi. verse 7.

L