TO MASTER JOHN BURGES by BEN JONSON

Father John Burges,
Necessity urges
My woeful cry,
To Sir Robert Pie:
And that he will venter
To send my debentur.
Tell him his Ben
Knew the time, when
He loved the muses;
Though now he refuses
To take apprehension
Of a year's pension,
And more is behind:
Put him in mind
Christmas is near;
And neither good cheer,
Mirth, fooling, nor wit,
Nor any least fit
Of gambol, or sport
Will come at the court.
If there be no money,
No plover, or cony
Will come to the table,
Or wine to enable
The muse, or the poet,
The parish will know it.
Nor any quick-warming pan help him to bed,
If the 'chequer be empty, so will be his head.

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