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Ben Jonson The faery beam upon you, The stars to glister on you; A moon of light, In the noon of night, Till the fire-drake hath o'ergone you! The wheel of fortune guide you, The boy with the bow beside you; Run aye in the way, Till the bird of day, And the luckier lot betide you! To the old, long life and treasure; To the young, all health and pleasure; To the fair, their face With eternal grace; And the soul to be loved at leisure. To the witty, all clear mirrors, To the foolish their dark errors; To the loving sprite, A secure delight: To the jealous his own false terrors. 1621 |