Ben Jonson

I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.
. . . read more

I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.
. . . .
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

Nature herself was proud of his designs,
And joyed to wear the dressing of his lines!
Which read more

Nature herself was proud of his designs,
And joyed to wear the dressing of his lines!
Which were so richly spun, and woven so fit,
As since, she will vouchsafe no other wit.

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.

To the old, long life and treasure;
To the young, all health and pleasure.

To the old, long life and treasure;
To the young, all health and pleasure.

And so to tread
As if the wind, not she, did walk;
Nor prest a flower, nor read more

And so to tread
As if the wind, not she, did walk;
Nor prest a flower, nor bow'd a stalk.