Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ON PLAYWRIGHT (2), by BEN JONSON Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Playwright, by chance, hearing some toys I'd writ Last Line: The liberty, that we'll enjoy tonight. Subject(s): Plays & Playwrights ; Dramatists | ||||||||
Playwright, by chance, hearing some toys I had writ, Cried to my face, they were the elixir of wit: And I must now believe him: for, today, Five of my jests, then stolen, passed him a play. Tonight, grave sir, both my poor house, and I Do equally desire your company: Not that we think us worthy such a guest, But that your worth will dignify our feast, With those that come; whose grace may make that seem Something, which, else, could hope for no esteem. It is the fair acceptance, sir, creates The entertainment perfect: not the cates. Yet shall you have, to rectify your palate, An olive, capers, or some better salad Ush'ring the mutton; with a short-legged hen, If we can get her, full of eggs, and then, Lemons, and wine for sauce: to these, a cony Is not to be despaired of, for our money; And, though fowl, now, be scarce, yet there are clerks, The sky not falling, think we may have larks. I'll tell you of more, and lie, so you will come: Of partridge, pheasant, woodcock, of which some May yet be there; and godwit, if we can: Knat, rail, and ruff too. Howsoe'er, my man Shall read a piece of Virgil, Tacitus, Livy, or of some better book to us, Of which we'll speak our minds, amidst our meat; And I'll profess no verses to repeat: To this, if aught appear, which I not know of, That will the pastry, not my paper, show of. Digestive cheese, and fruit there sure will be; But that, which most doth take my muse, and me, Is a pure cup of rich canary wine, Which is the Mermaid's, now, but shall be mine: Of which had Horace, or Anacreon tasted, Their lives, as do their lines, till now had lasted. Tobacco, nectar, or the Thespian spring, Are all but Luther's beer, to this I sing. Of this we will sup free, but moderately, And we will have no Pooly, or Parrot by; Nor shall our cups make any guilty men: But, at our parting, we will be, as when We innocently met. No simple word, That shall be uttered at our mirthful board, Shall make us sad next morning: or affright The liberty, that we'll enjoy tonight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ENDING WITH A LINE FROM LEAR by MARVIN BELL ENDING WITH A LINE FROM LEAR by MARVIN BELL SOUNDS OF THE RESURRECTED DEAD MAN'S FOOTSTEPS (#20): 1. SHAKESPEARE by MARVIN BELL SOUNDS OF THE RESURRECTED DEAD MAN'S FOOTSTEPS (#20): 1. SHAKESPEARE by MARVIN BELL SOUNDS OF THE RESURRECTED DEAD MAN'S FOOTSTEPS (#20): 2. SHAKESPEARE by MARVIN BELL SOUNDS OF THE RESURRECTED DEAD MAN'S FOOTSTEPS (#20): 2. SHAKESPEARE by MARVIN BELL YOUR SHAKESPEARE by MARVIN BELL YOUR SHAKESPEARE by MARVIN BELL A CELEBRATION OF CHARIS: 1. HIS EXCUSE FOR LOVING by BEN JONSON A CELEBRATION OF CHARIS: 4. HER TRIUMPH by BEN JONSON A CELEBRATION OF CHARIS: 5. HIS DISCOURSE WITH CUPID by BEN JONSON |
|