Ben Jonson

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.

It strikes! one, two,
Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch,
Thy pulse hath beat enough. read more

It strikes! one, two,
Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch,
Thy pulse hath beat enough. Now sleep and rest;
Would thou could'st make the time to do so too;
I'll wind thee up no more.

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.

Sweet meat must have sour sauce.

Sweet meat must have sour sauce.

--They write here one Cornelius--Son
Hath made the Hollanders an invisible eel
To swim the haven at read more

--They write here one Cornelius--Son
Hath made the Hollanders an invisible eel
To swim the haven at Dunkirk, and sink all
The shipping there.
--But how is't done?
--I'll show you, sir.
It is automa, runs under water
With a snug nose, and has a nimble tail
Made like an auger, with which tail she wriggles
Betwixt the costs of a ship and sinks it straight.