ON THE BEST OF ENGLISH POETS,1

BEN JONSON,

DECEASED.

So seems a star to shoot, when from our sight
Falls the deceit, not from its loss of light;
We want use of a soul, who merely know
What to our passion or our sense we owe:
By such a hollow glass our cozen'd eye
Concludes alike all dead whom it sees die.
Nature is knowledge here, but unrefin'd,
Both differing as the body from the mind;
Laurel and cypress else had grown together,
And wither'd without memory to either:
Thus undistinguish'd might in every part
The sons of earth vie with the sons of art.
Forbid it,2 holy reverence, to his name,
Whose glory hath fill'd-up the book of fame;
Where in fair capitals, free, uncontroll❜d,
Jonson, a work of honour, lives enroll'd;
Creates that book a work; adds this far more,
'Tis finish'd what unperfect was before.

The Muses, first in Greece begot, in Rome

Brought forth, our best of poets have call'd home, Nurst, taught, and planted here; that Thames now sings The Delphian altars and the sacred springs.

By influence of this sovereign, like the spheres,

Mov'd each by other, the most low in years

1 On the best of English poets, &c.] From Ionsonvs Virbivs, &c. 1638. 4to. D.

2 Forbid it, &c.] This line is omitted by Gifford ! D.

Consented in their harmony; though some,
Malignantly aspécted, overcome

With popular opinion, aim'd at name

More than desert: yet in despite of shame
Even they, though foil'd by his contempt of wrongs,
Made music to the harshness of their songs.

Drawn to the life of every line1 and limb
He-in his truth of art, and that in him—
Lives yet, and will whiles letters can be read:
The loss is ours; now hope of life is dead.
Great men and worthy of report must fall
Into their earth, and sleeping there sleep all;
Since he, whose pen in every strain did use
To drop a verse, and every verse a Muse,
Is vow'd to heaven; as having with fair glory
Sung thanks of honour, or some nobler story.
The court, the university, the heat

Of theatres, with what can else beget
Belief and admiration, clearly prove
Our poet fi[rs]t in merit as in love.
Yet if he do not at his full appear,

Survey him in his works, and know him there.

JOHN FORD.5

3 Consented] The 4to has

Contented." D.

4 line] Gifford printed "eye"! D.

5 It does not appear that Ford had any personal friendship with Jonson, though he might perhaps have known and been known to him; since Ben had, as he says, from his first entrance into life cultivated an acquaintance with the most celebrated professors of the law. As far, however, as respects their dramatic career, they have nothing in common; for Jonson had, in some measure, withdrawn from the stage many years before Ford's first-published piece appeared on it. Jonson produced but one play (The Staple of News) during the long period of fourteen [nine] years (from 1616 to 1630 [1625]); nor would he, perhaps, have returned to the theatre, had not disease and its concomitant, want, compelled his "faint and faltering tongue,' as he pathetically says, to have recourse to it for the means of an immediate though temporary relief. It is evident, however, that our poet entertained a great degree of kindness and respect for Jonson; with whose friends he seems to have been chiefly conversant.

LINES

Prefixed1 to Foure Bookes of Offices: Enabling Privat persons for the speciall seruice of all good Princes and Policies, made and deuised by Barnabe Barnes. London Printed at the charges of George Bishop, T. Adams, and C. Burbie. 1606. folio.

John Ford in commendation of his very good friend the Author.

NOT to adorn but to commend this frame
Drawn by the curious hand of judgment's art;
Nor to commend, for this commends the same,
But solace to thy labours to impart :

A work of thanks, outliving term of fate,
In brief prescriptions of a formal state.

Great were thy pains, but greater is thy fame,
Lock'd in the jewel-house of precious treasure ;
Which doth by counsel's wisdom rear thy name
In equal justice of well-balanc'd measure :

Thou teachest soldiers discipline of fight,
And they again defend thy merit's right.
Write on, rare mirror of these abject days,
Thy good example others will advise ;
Thy subject values love, thy studies praise,
A precedent to youth, life to the wise:

So ever shall, while time and empires last,
Thy works by thee, thou by thy works be grac'd.
Verba, decor, gravitas confirmat, denotat, ornat
Auctorem lepidum, re, gravitate, manu.

JOHANNES FORD, Encomiastes.

1 Lines prefixed, &c.] Not reprinted by Gifford.-The copy of Barnes's work in the British Museum wants these lines; which I give from Haslewood's Advertisement" to his edition of Ford's Fame's Memorial. D.

LINES

Prefixed1 to several editions of Sir Thomas Ouerbury his Wife.

A Memorial offered to that man of virtue, Sir Thomas Overbury.

ONCE dead and twice alive; Death could not frame
A death whose sting could kill him in his fame.
He might have liv'd, had not the life which gave
Life to his life betray'd him to his grave.
If greatness could consist in being good,
His goodness did add titles to his blood.
Only unhappy in his life's last fate,
In that he liv'd so soon, to die so late.
Alas, whereto shall men oppressèd trust,
When innocence can not protect the just?
His error was his fault, his truth his end,
No enemy his ruin but his friend :

Cold friendship, where hot vows are but a breath
To guerdon poor simplicity with death.
Was never man that felt the sense of grief

So Overbury'd in a safe belief:

Belief? O, cruel slaughter! times unbred
Will say, Who dies that is untimely dead
By treachery, of lust, or by disgrace

In friendship, 'twas but Overbury's case;
Which shall not more commend his truth than prove
Their guilt who were his opposites in love.

1 Lines prefixed, &c.] Not reprinted by Gifford. D.