Written by
Ben Jonson |
XIV.
— ODE TO SIR WILLIAM SIDNEY, ON HIS BIRTH-DAY.
Some sing,
And all do strive to advance
The gladness higher;
Wherefore should I
Stand silent by,
Who not the least, That I may tell to SIDNEY what
This day
Doth say,
And he may think on that
Which I do tell;
When all the noise
Of these forced joys,
Are fled and gone, Are justly summ'd, that make you man;
Your vow
Must now
Strive all right ways it can,
T' outstrip your peers :
Since he doth lack
Of going back
Little, whose will Of nobles' virtue, shew in you ;
Your blood
So good
And great, must seek for new,
And study more :
Not weary, rest
On what's deceas't.
For they, that swell Whose nephew, whose grandchild you are ;
And men
Will then
Say you have follow'd far,
When well begun :
Which must be now,
They teach you how,
And he that stays If with this truth you be inspired ;
So may
This day
Be more, and long desired ;
And with the flame
Of love be bright,
As with the light
Of bonfires ! then
And some do drink, and some do dance,
Some ring,
Some sing,
And all do strive to advance
The gladness higher;
Wherefore should I
Stand silent by,
Who not the least,
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