BEN JONSON

Broad-based, broad-fronted, bounteous, multiform,

With many a valley impleached with ivy and vine,

Wherein the springs of all the streams run wine,

And many a crag full-faced against the storm,

The mountain where thy Muse's feet made warm

Those lawns that revelled with her dance divine

Shines yet with fire as it was wont to shine

From tossing torches round the dance aswarm.

Nor less, high-stationed on the grey grave heights,

High-thoughted seers with heaven's heart-kindling lights

Hold converse: and the herd of meaner things

Knows or by fiery scourge or fiery shaft

When wrath on thy broad brows has risen, and laughed

Darkening thy soul with shadow of thunderous wings.