|
A Farewell to the World by Ben Jonson
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 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; 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 professed be, 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.
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 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: 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, Here in my bosom, and at home.
|
|