To Ben Jonson. Upon Occasion of his Ode of Defiance annexed to his Play of the New Inn  15749

Locations in Harold's Library

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            [0] => 'Tis true (dear Ben) thy just chastising hand / Hath fixed upon the sotted age a brand / To their swoln pride, and empty scribbling due, / It can nor judge, nor write, and yet 'tis true / Thy comic Muse from the exalted line / Touch by thy Alchemist, doth since decline / From that her zenith, and foretells a red / And blushing evening, when she goes to bed,
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