Now, Now, The Mirth Comes - The Hymns and Carols of Christmas
Now, Now, The Mirth Comes - The Hymns and Carols of Christmas
Now, Now, The Mirth Comes - The Hymns and Carols of Christmas
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“<strong>Now</strong>, <strong>Now</strong> <strong>The</strong> <strong>Mirth</strong> <strong>Comes</strong>”<br />
<strong>The</strong> Sons Of Ben:<br />
Upon Ben. Johnson.<br />
Here<br />
lyes Johnson with the rest<br />
Of the Poets; but the Best.<br />
Reader, wo'dst thou more have known?<br />
Aske his Story, not this Stone.<br />
That will speake what this can't tell<br />
Of his glory. So farewell.<br />
An Ode for him.<br />
Ah Ben!<br />
Say how, or when<br />
Shall we thy Guests<br />
Meet at those Lyrick Feasts,<br />
Made at the Sun,<br />
<strong>The</strong> Dog, the triple Tunne?<br />
Where we such clusters had,<br />
As made us nobly wild, not mad;<br />
And yet each Verse <strong>of</strong> thine<br />
Out-did the meate, out-did the frolick wine.<br />
My Ben<br />
Or come agen:<br />
Or send to us,<br />
Thy wits great over-plus;<br />
But teach us yet<br />
Wisely to husb<strong>and</strong> it;<br />
Lest we that Tallent spend:<br />
And having once brought to an end<br />
That precious stock; the store<br />
Of such a wit the world sho'd have no more.<br />
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