Ben Jonson

'Tis no sin love's fruits to steal;
But the sweet thefts to reveal;
To be taken, to read more

'Tis no sin love's fruits to steal;
But the sweet thefts to reveal;
To be taken, to be seen,
These have crimes accounted been.

For a good poet's made, as well as born,
And such wast thou! Look how the father's face
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For a good poet's made, as well as born,
And such wast thou! Look how the father's face
Lives in his issue; even so the race
Of Shakespeare's mind and manner brightly shine
In his well-turned and true-filed lines;
In each of which he seems to shake a lance,
As brandished at the eyes of ignorance.

Where it concerns himself,
Who's angry at a slander, makes it true.

Where it concerns himself,
Who's angry at a slander, makes it true.

This figure that thou here seest put,
It was for gentle Shakespeare cut,
Wherein the graver had read more

This figure that thou here seest put,
It was for gentle Shakespeare cut,
Wherein the graver had a strife
With Nature, to outdo the life:
Oh, could he but have drawn his wit
As well in brass, as he has hit
His face, the print would then surpass
All that was ever writ in brass;
But since he cannot, reader, look
Not on his picture, but his book.

The world knows only two, that's Rome and I.

The world knows only two, that's Rome and I.