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Sweet Swan of Avon! What a sight it were To see thee in our water yet appear.

Ben Jonson

Nor shall our cups make any guilty men; But at our parting, we will be, as when We innocently met.
BEN JONSON

Cup Drinking Men
Tell troth and shame the devil.
BEN JONSON

Devil Shame Truth
Chance will not do the work. Chance sends the breeze; But if the pilot slumber at the helm, The very wind that wafts us tow’rds the port May dash us on the shoals. The steersman’s part Is vigilance, or blow it rough or smooth.
BEN JONSON

Blow Slumber Wind
All the wise world is little else, in nature, But parasites or subparasites.
BEN JONSON

Little Wise World
The burnt child dreads the fire.
BEN JONSON

Children Dread Fire
Language most shows a man, speak that I may see thee.
BEN JONSON

Leadership May Men
One woman reads another’s character Without the tedious trouble of deciphering
BEN JONSON

Character Trouble Women
I glory, more in the cunning purchase of my wealth than in the glad possession.
BEN JONSON

Glory Greed Wealth
Hell itself must yield to industry.
BEN JONSON

Hell Industry Yield
Whom the disease of talking still once posses-seth, he can never hold his peace.
BEN JONSON

Disease Talking
Very few men are wise by their own council, or learned by their own teaching. For he that was only taught by himself, had a fool for a master.
BEN JONSON

Men Teaching Wise
A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night, It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see, And in short measures life may perfect be.
BEN JONSON

Die Fall Flower Night Proportion
I know no disease of the soul but ignorance, a pernicious evil, the darkener of man’s life, the disturber of his reason, and common confounder of truth.
BEN JONSON

Ignorance Men Science
Sweet Swan of Avon! What a sight it were To see thee in our water yet appear.
BEN JONSON

Sight Swans Sweet
My thoughts and I were of another world.
BEN JONSON

Another World Thoughts
Still may syllables jar with time, Still may reason war with rhyme, Resting never!
BEN JONSON

May Poetry War

Sweet Swan of Avon! What a sight it were To see thee in our water yet appear.

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Sweet Swan of Avon! What a sight it were To see thee in our water yet appear.

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