Poem by Ben Jonson

To Censorious Courtling

COURTLING, I rather thou should'st utterly
Dispraise my work, than praise it frostily:
When I am read, thou feign'st a weak applause,
As if thou wert my friend, but lack'dst a cause.
This but thy judgment fools: the other way
Would both thy folly and thy spite betray.

1. Epitaph on the Countess of Pembroke
2. A Hymn to God the Father
3. On Poet-Ape
4. His Supposed Mistress
5. To Francis Beaumont

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