To the Memory of Ben Jonson

John Cleveland (1613–1658)

THE MUSE’S fairest light in no dark time,

The wonder of a learnèd age; the line

Which none can pass! the most proportioned wit,—

To nature, the best judge of what was fit;

The deepest, plainest, highest, clearest pen;

The voice most echoed by consenting men;

The soul which answered best to all well said

By others, and which most requital made;

Tuned to the highest key of ancient Rome,

Returning all her music with his own;

In whom, with nature, study claimed a part,

And yet who to himself owed all his art:

Here lies Ben Jonson! every age will look

With sorrow here, with wonder on his book.