Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO BEN JONSON, by THOMAS RANDOLPH



Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO BEN JONSON, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: I was not born to helicon, nor dare
Last Line: Tis to pen anthems for an angel's quire.
Variant Title(s): A Gratulatory To Ben Jonson For His Adopting Of Him To Be His Son
Subject(s): Jonson, Ben (1572-1637); Poetry & Poets


I was not born to Helicon, nor dare
Presume to think myself a Muse's heir.
I have no title to Parnassus Hill
Nor any acre of it by the will
Of a dead ancestor, nor could I be
Ought but a tenant unto poetry.
But thy adoption quits me of all fear,
And makes me challenge a child's portion there.
I am akin to heroes, being thine,
And part of my alliance is divine,
Orpheus, Muses, Homer too, beside
Thy brothers by the Roman mother's side;
As Ovid, Virgil, and the Latin lyre
That is so like thee, Horace; the whole quire
Of poets are, by thy adoption, all
My uncles; thou hast given me power to call
Phoebus himself my grandsire; by this grant
Each sister of the Nine is made by aunt.
Go, you that reckon from a large descent
Your lineal honours, and are well content
To glory in the age of your great name
Though on a herald's faith you build the same:
I do not envy you, nor think you blest
Though you may bear a Gorgon on your crest
By direct line from Perseus; I will boast
No further than my father; that's the most
I can, or should be proud of; and I were
Unworthy his adoption, if that here
I should be dully modest; boast I must,
Being son of his adoption, not his lust.
And, to say truth, that which is best in me
May call you father; 'twas begot by thee.
Have I a spark of that celestial flame
Within me? I confess I stole the same,
Prometheus-like, from thee; and may I feed
His vulture, when I dare deny the deed.
Many more moons thou hast, that shine by night,
All bankrupts, were't not for a borrow'd light,
You can forswwear it; I the debt confess,
And think my reputation ne'er the less.
For, father, let me be resolv'd by you:
Is't a disparagement from rich Peru
To ravish gold; or theft, for wealthy ore
To ransack Tagus' or Pactolus' shore?
Or does he wrong Alcinous that for want
Doth take from him a sprig or two, to plant
A lesser orchard? Sure, it cannot be:
Nor is it theft to steal some flames from thee.
Grant this, and I'll cry guilty, as I am,
And pay a filial reverence to thy name,
For when my muse upon obedient knees
Asks not a father's blessing, let her lese
The fame of this adoption; 'tis a curse
I wish her, 'cause I cannot think a worse.
And here, as piety bids me, I entreat
Phoebus to lend thee some of his own heat,
To cure thy palsy; else I will complain
He has no skill in herbs; poets in vain
Make him the god of physic, 'twere his praise
To make thee as immortal as thy bays --
As his own Daphne, 'twere a shame to see
The god not love his priest more than his tree.
But if heaven take thee, envying us thy lyre,
'Tis to pen anthems for an angel's quire.




Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...



Home: PoetryExplorer.net