A funeral elegie, In Memory of the Rare, Famous, and Admired Poet, Mr. Beniamin Ionson deceased Who dyed the sixteenth day of August last, 1637, and lyeth inter'd in the Cathedrall Church of Saint Peter at Westminster |
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TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE, VVORSHIPFVLL AND Others, that are understanding Readers and Impartiall Censurers. |
 | A funeral elegie, In Memory of the Rare, Famous, and Admired Poet, Mr. Beniamin Ionson deceased |  |
TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE, VVORSHIPFVLL AND Others, that are understanding Readers and Impartiall Censurers.
Right Honour'd, Worshipfull and knowing men,I doe not here confine my Dedication,
To any one man, but my toyling pen
Writes to great Brittaine, and the Irish Nation,
Know that the subject of My verse is Ben,
And what he was, his workes doe make relation.
Alive his lines abroad by Fame were spread,
For which he is belov'd now he is dead.
Dead, no, he lives, he will, and shall survive,
For Death hath taken but his shell or Rhyn'de,
His better parts are still with us alive,
His Pith or Kernell he hath left behinde,
Age, Death or Time, can put him out of mind,
He was belov'd, and for his love I crave,
His Elegie may your acceptance have
You that are men of worth, I speake to you,
Not to the partial and prejudicate:
Nor to the ribble rabble sencelesse crue,
The Hydra monster inconsiderate,
Who scarce know P from G, or blacke from blew,
I neither doe respect, their love or hate,
For him deceas'd, and for your loves I pend it,
And to your good protections I commend it.
| A funeral elegie, In Memory of the Rare, Famous, and Admired Poet, Mr. Beniamin Ionson deceased | |