Literature and Words

A Babylonish dialect Which learned pedants much affect.

For rhetoric, he could not ope His mouth, but out there flew a trope.

For all a rhetorician’s rules Teach nothing but to name his tools.

Apt words have power to suage The tumors of a troubled mind.

My unpremeditated verse.

What never yet was heard in tale or song, From old or modern bard, in hall or bower.

Where more is meant than meets the ear.

Or call up him that left half told The story of Cambuscan bold.

Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing Such notes as, warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto’s cheek.

Who says that fictions only and false hair Become a verse? Is there in truth no beauty? 3

A verse may find him who a sermon flies. 1

What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! heard words that have been So nimble, and so full of subtle flame, As if that everyone from whence they came, Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And resolv’d to live a fool, the rest Of his dull life.

Renowned Spenser, lie a thought more nigh To learned Chaucer; and rare Beaumont, lie A little nearer Spenser; to make room For Shakespeare in your threefold fourfold tomb.

Sweet Swan of Avon!

He was not of an age but for all time.

Call forth thundering Aeschylus.

And though thou hadst small Latin and less Greek.

The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise; I will not lodge thee by Chaucer or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room; Thou art a monument, without a tomb, And art alive still, while thy book doth live, And we have wits to read, and praise to give.

Marlowe’s mighty line.

Reader, look, Not at his picture, but his book.

I am two fools, I know, For loving, and for saying so In whining poetry.

Go, and catch a falling star, Get with child a mandrake root, Tell me, where all past years are, Or who cleft the Devil’s foot. Teach me to hear mermaids singing.

You taught me language; and my profit on ’t Is, I know how to curse: the red plague rid you, For learning me your language!

Knowing I lov’d my books, he furnish’d me, From mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom.