No More Learning

B. JONS.


[To John Donne. _1650-69, following the_ Hexastichon ad
Bibliopolam. ]




To LUCY, COUNTESSE OF BEDFORD, with M. DONNES Satyres.


_Lucy_, you brightnesse of our Spheare, who are
Life of the _Muses_ day, their morning Starre!
If works (not th'Authors) their own grace should look
Whose poems would not wish to be your book?
But these, desir'd by you, the makers ends
Crown with their own. Rare Poems ask rare friends.
Yet, _Satyres_, since the most of mankind bee
Their unavoided subject, fewest see:
For none ere took that pleasure in sins sense,
But, when they heard it tax'd, took more offence.
They, then, that living where the matter is bred,
Dare for these Poems, yet, both ask, and read,
And like them too; must needfully, though few,
Be of the best: and 'mongst those best are you;
_Lucy_, you brightnefle of our Spheare, who are
The _Muses_ evening, as their morning-Starre.

B. JON.


TO JOHN DONNE.
Who shall doubt, _Donne_, where I a _Poet_ bee,
When I dare send my _Epigrammes_ to thee?
That so alone canst judge, so'alone do'st make:
And, in thy censures, evenly, dost take
As free simplicity, to dis-avow,
As thou hast best authority, t'allow.
Read all I send: and, if I finde but one
Mark'd by thy hand, and with the better stone,
My title's seal'd. Those that for claps doe write,
Let punees, porters, players praise delight,
And, till they burst, their backs, like asses load:
A man should seek great glory, and not broad.

B. JON.


[To Lucy _&c. _ To John Donne _&c. _ _1650-69, in sheets added
1650_. _See_ Text and Canon _&c. _]




[Illustration: JOHN DONNE

From the engraving prefixed to the Poems in the Editions of 1635,
1639, 1649, 1650, 1654]




SONGS _AND_ SONETS.


_The good-morrow. _

I wonder by my troth, what thou, and I
Did, till we lov'd? were we not wean'd till then?
But suck'd on countrey pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in the seaven sleepers den?