Classic and Contemporary Poetry
AN ELEGY (2), by BEN JONSON Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Let me be what I am, as virgil cold Last Line: More then of eithers manners, wit, or face! Subject(s): Poetry & Poets | ||||||||
Let me be what I am, as Virgil cold; As Horace fat; or as Anacreon old; No Poets verses yet did ever move, Whose Readers did not thinke he was in love. Who shall forbid me then in Rithme to bee As light, and active as the youngest hee That from the Muses fountaines doth indorse His lynes, and hourely sits the Poets horse? Put on my Ivy Garland, let me see Who frownes, who jealous is, who taxeth me. Fathers, and Husband, I doe claime a right In all that is call'd lovely: take my sight Sooner then my affection from the faire. No face, no hand, proportion, line, or Ayre Of beautie; but the Muse hath interest in: There is not worne that lace, purle, knot or pin, But is the Poets matter: And he must, When he is furious, love, although not lust. Be then content, your Daughters and your Wives, (If they be faire and worth it) have their lives Made longer by our praises. Or, if not, Wish, you had fowle ones, and deformed got; Curst in their Cradles, or there chang'd by Elves, So to be sure you doe injoy your selves. Yet keepe those up in sackcloth too, or lether, For Silke will draw some sneaking Songster thither. It is a ryming Age, and Verses swarme At very stall; The Cittie Cap's a charme. But I who love, and have liv'd twentie yeare Where I may handle Silke, as free, and neere, As any Mercer; or the whale-bone man That quilts those bodies, I have leave to span: Have eaten with the Beauties, and the wits And braveries of Court, and felt their fits Of love, and hate: and came so nigh to know Whether their faces were their owne, or no: It is not likely I should now looke downe Upon a Velvet Petticote, or a Gowne, Whose like I have knowne the Taylors Wife put on To doe her Husbands rites in, e're 'twere gone Home to the Customer: his Letcherie Being, the best clothes still to praeoccupie. Put a Coach-mare in Tissue, must I horse Her presently? Or leape thy Wife of force When by thy sordid bountie she hath on A Gowne of that, was the Caparison? So I might dote upon thy Chaires, and Stooles That are like cloath'd: must I be of those fooles Of race accompted, that no passion have But when thy Wife (as thou conceiv'st) is brave? Then ope thy wardrobe, thinke me that poore Groome That from the Foot-man, when he was become An Officer there, did make most solemne love, To ev'ry Petticote he brush'd, and Glove He did lay up, and would adore the shooe, Or slipper was left off, and kisse it too, Court every hanging Gowne, and after that, Lift up some one, and doe, I tell not what. Thou didst tell me; and wert o're-joy'd to peepe In at a hole, and see these Actions creepe From the poore wretch, which though he play'd in prose, He would have done in verse, with any of those Wrung on the Withers, by Lord Loves despight, Had he'had the facultie to reade, and write! Such Songsters there are store of; witnesse he That chanc'd the lace, laid on a Smock, to see, And straight-way spent a Sonnet; with that other That (in pure Madrigall) unto his Mother Commended the French-hood, and Scarlet gowne The Lady Mayresse pass'd in through the Towne, Unto the Spittle Sermon. O, what strange Varietie of Silkes were on th' Exchange! Or in Moore-fields, this other night! sings one, Another answers, "Lasse, those Silkes are none," In smiling L'envoye, as he would deride Any Comparison had with his Cheap-side. And vouches both the Pageant, and the Day, When not the Shops, but windowes doe display The Stuffes, the Velvets, Plushes, Fringes, Lace, And all the originall riots of the place. Let the poore fooles enjoy their follies, love A Goat in Velvet; or some block could move Under that cover; an old Mid-wives hat! Or a Close-stoole so cas'd! or any fat Bawd, in a Velvet scabberd! I envy None of their pleasures! now will aske thee, why Thou art jealous of thy Wifes, or Daughters Case: More then of eithers manners, wit, or face! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ENVY OF OTHER PEOPLE'S POEMS by ROBERT HASS THE NINETEENTH CENTURY AS A SONG by ROBERT HASS THE FATALIST: TIME IS FILLED by LYN HEJINIAN OXOTA: A SHORT RUSSIAN NOVEL: CHAPTER 192 by LYN HEJINIAN LET ME TELL YOU WHAT A POEM BRINGS by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA JUNE JOURNALS 6/25/88 by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA FOLLOW ROZEWICZ by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA HAVING INTENDED TO MERELY PICK ON AN OIL COMPANY, THE POEM GOES AWRY by HICOK. BOB 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 |
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