Poem of the month

On My First Sonne
by Ben Jonson

Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy;
My sinne was too much hope of thee, lov’d boy,
Seven yeeres tho’ wert lent to me, and I thee pay,
Exacted by thy fate, on the just day.
O, could I loose all father, now. For why
Will man lament the state he should envie?
To have so soone scap’d worlds, and fleshes rage,
And, if no other miserie, yet age?
Rest in soft peace, and, ask’d, say here doth lye
Ben. Jonson his best piece of poetrie.
For whose sake, hence-forth, all his bowes be such,
As what he loves may never like too much.

Ben Jonson (1572-1637) was an actor, playwright and poet. In his day he was more highly regarded than his contemporary, William Shakespeare whom he outlived. Jonson led a colourful life combining his theatrical career with holy orders, a fact that allowed him to escape the gallows by invoking ‘benefit of clergy’ when, in his twenties, he was convicted of the murder of a fellow actor. Written in 1616 after the death of his son Benjamin, this poignant take on a father’s grief is in striking contrast to most of Jonson’s work which is both cynical and worldly.