THOUGH beauty be the mark of praise, <br />And yours of whom I sing be such <br />As not the world can praise too much, <br />Yet 'tis your Virtue now I raise. <br /> <br />A virtue, like allay so gone <br />Throughout your form as, though that move <br />And draw and conquer all men's love, <br />This subjects you to love of one. <br /> <br />Wherein you triumph yet-because <br />'Tis of your flesh, and that you use <br />The noblest freedom, not to choose <br />Against or faith or honour's laws. <br /> <br />But who should less expect from you? <br />In whom alone Love lives again: <br />By whom he is restored to men, <br />And kept and bred and brought up true. <br /> <br />His falling temples you have rear'd, <br />The wither'd garlands ta'en away; <br />His altars kept from that decay <br />That envy wish'd, and nature fear'd: <br /> <br />And on them burn so chaste a flame, <br />With so much loyalty's expense, <br />As Love to acquit such excellence <br />Is gone himself into your name. <br /> <br />And you are he-the deity <br />To whom all lovers are design'd <br />That would their better objects find; <br />Among which faithful troop am I- <br /> <br />Who as an off'ring at your shrine <br />Have sung this hymn, and here entreat <br />One spark of your diviner heat <br />To light upon a love of mine. <br /> <br />Which if it kindle not, but scant <br />Appear, and that to shortest view; <br />Yet give me leave to adore in you <br />What I in her am grieved to want!<br /><br />Ben Jonson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-elegy-9/
