Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
Ben Jonson. 15731637190. A Farewell to the World
FALSE world, good night! since thou hast brought | |
That hour upon my morn of age; | |
Henceforth I quit thee from my thought, | |
My part is ended on thy stage. | |
Yes, threaten, do. Alas! I fear | 5 |
As little as I hope from thee: | |
I know thou canst not show nor bear | |
More hatred than thou hast to me. | |
My tender, first, and simple years | |
Thou didst abuse and then betray; | 10 |
Since stir’d’st up jealousies and fears, | |
When all the causes were away. | |
Then in a soil hast planted me | |
Where breathe the basest of thy fools; | |
Where envious arts professèd be, | 15 |
And pride and ignorance the schools; | |
Where nothing is examined, weigh’d, | |
But as ’tis rumour’d, so believed; | |
Where every freedom is betray’d, | |
And every goodness tax’d or grieved. | 20 |
But what we’re born for, we must bear: | |
Our frail condition it is such | |
That what to all may happen here, | |
If ‘t chance to me, I must not grutch. | |
Else I my state should much mistake | 25 |
To harbour a divided thought | |
From all my kind—that, for my sake, | |
There should a miracle be wrought. | |
No, I do know that I was born | |
To age, misfortune, sickness, grief: | 30 |
But I will bear these with that scorn | |
As shall not need thy false relief. | |
Nor for my peace will I go far, | |
As wanderers do, that still do roam; | |
But make my strengths, such as they are, | 35 |
Here in my bosom, and at home. |