Ben Jonson

It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make man better be;
Or standing long read more

It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make man better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere:
A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May,
Although it falls and die that night--
It was the plant and flower of Light.

And I had lent my watch last night to one
That dines to-day at the sheriff's.

And I had lent my watch last night to one
That dines to-day at the sheriff's.

A woman is most merciless when shame goads on her hate.

A woman is most merciless when shame goads on her hate.

Art hath an enemy called ignorance.

Art hath an enemy called ignorance.

Digestive cheese, and fruit there sure will be.

Digestive cheese, and fruit there sure will be.