AH Ben! Say how or when Shall we, thy guests, Meet at those lyric feasts, Made at the Sun, The Dog, the Triple Tun; Where we such clusters had As made us nobly wild, not mad; And yet each verse of thine Outdid the meat, outdid the frolic wine. My Ben! Or come again, Or send to us Thy wit's great overplus; But teach us yet Wisely to husband it, Lest we that talent spend: And having once brought to an end That precious stock, the store Of such a wit, the world should have no more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEVIL'S WALK [ON EARTH] by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE COMPANION OF QUIET by JOSEPH AUSLANDER LILIES: 28. NOW by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) PSALM 8, SELECTION by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE BOUT by EVARISTE BOULAY-PATY AN EPITAPH ON HIM by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) THOUGHTS SUGGESTED BY A COLLEGE EXAMINATION by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |