Quarrel with Ben Jonson

 

                           Poems and Poets

                    11.Quarrel with Ben Jonson

Most of us must have studied this delightful poem by Ben Jonson in our school days, along with The Brook, The Pied Piper, etc.

It is not Growing Like a Tree

It is not growing like a tree 

In bulk doth make man better be.

Or standing long an oak,three hundred year,

To fall a log at last,dry, bald and sere.

A lily of a day

Is far fairer in May,

Although it fall and die that night-

It was the plant and flower of light.

In small proportions we just beauties see

And in small measures life may perfect be.

The moral of the poem is clear, and conveyed in the last two lines. Ben Jonson  seems to be the the original initiator of the concept of 'Small Is Beautiful', made famous by E.F.Schumacher in the 70s! This point is well taken, don't mind the economists.

He gives two examples to drive his point home: the lily of the day, and oak which stands long but falls a log.

About the lily, there are no two opinions. It is indeed lovely.

We Indians celebrate the lotus more but lily too is celebrated.

The eyes of fair maidens are compared to the lily, while the lotus has a more exalted place as the seat of our Deities and compared to their eyes. 

I came across the following lines about the lily in a poem by the American poet Ben King ' It is about the flowers celebrating a party ending in a ball,  where " the flowers of every clime were there, of high and low degree":

      " Sir Cactus took Miss Lily'

             And he swung her so about

         She asked Sweet Pea to Cauliflower

             And put the Cactus out.

Read about the oak again. I have always felt something odd, jarring here. Is  Ben Jonson right in running down the oak in this manner? Is it a small matter for a tree to stand three hundred years? And think of all the benefits it had extended to other forms of life, including man. While the lily provided beauty and delight of a day, the oak provided shelter and shade to many creatures all those years. What if it became " dry, bald and sere"? The oak is useful even when dead: how many poor families can cook their food out of it, or how many can warm themselves on  wintry night with the logs lighted?; can it be said  of the fair lily? Is even a  man as useful when dead?

Let me say something I saw in 1997. In the heart of New Delhi, in the middle of the AIIMS campus , there stood an old tree- tall but 'dry, bald and sere"- with not a leaf, not a bit of any green sign of life. But it had enough ancient holes, on its tall, thick branches. And many colourful parakeets lived in those holes! It was a sight to see them fluttering around the tree and hear the raucous sounds  they raised morning and evening ! How can we say the mighty oak  will do less? Surely, even a dead tree is a good tree. Of how many people can we say that, even  while alive ?

Naturalists tell us that such dead trees have also their uses in a forest, and should not be removed thoughtlessly. I think Ben Jonson had been carried away by his own eloquence, and gone off the track.

But I am insignificant. Let me take shelter under a mighty authority- Milton, no less.

On His Blindness: John Milton

When I consider how my light is spent

Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,

And that one talent which is death to hide

Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent

To serve therewith my Maker, and present

My true account, lest he returning chide,

"Doth God exact day-labour light denied?'

I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent

That murmur soon replies, "God does not need

Either man's works or his own gifts: who best

Bear his wild yoke, they serve him best. His state

Is kingly, thousands at his bidding speed

And post o'er land and ocean without rest:

They also serve who only stand and wait."

So the standing oak, " dry, bald and sere" also serves!


Tree is a magnificent sight. It makes you look up, naturally.
Here are some nice poems on tree.

Joyce Kilmer : Trees

I think that I shall never see
A poem  lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.


John Freeman: The Tree

Oh, like a tree
Let me grow up to Thee!
And like a tree
Send down my roots to Thee.

Let my leaves stir
In sigh of the air.
My branches be
Lively and glad in Thee:


Each leaf a prayer'
And green fire everywhere.....
And all from thee
The sap within the tree.

And let Thy rain 
Fall- or as joy and pain,
So that I be
Yet unforgot of Thee.

Then shall I sing
The new song of Thy Spring,
Every Leaf of me
Whispering love in Thee.


Eileen Mathias: Tall Trees

With their feet in the earth
  And their heads in the sky
The tall trees watch
  The clouds go by.

When the dusk sends quickly
  The birds to rest,
The tall trees shelter them
  Safe in a nest.

And then in the night
  With the tall trees peeping,
The moon shines down
  On a world that is sleeping.


Sara Coleridge: Trees

The Oak is called the King of Trees,
The Aspen quivers in the breeze,
The Poplar grows up straight and tall,
The Pear tree spreads along the wall,
The Sycamore gives pleasant shade,
The Willow droops in watery glade,
The Fir tree useful timber gives,
The Beech amid the forest lives.

The oak is the king of trees, but I have not found a poem on it yet. That Ben Jonson should slight it so still rankles me. Alas, I am no poet to write an Ode to Oak! I wish some poet does.

Great Oak, take heart!
Blessed are you:
You served us well
Both when you stood- and fell.

                                   (R.Nanjappa)
Are we becoming too romantic? Let us get a bit realistic. Trees have not been safe in India for many years now due to "development". Forests are shrinking, mountain trees are cut. Sunderlal Bahuguna and his angels had to 'hug' the trees in the villages of Himalayan foothills  to prevent them falling victims to the contractors' saw.Thus was the "Chipko" movement born, but it didn't spread to other areas.

 Where are trees to be found in cities now, in India? They are disappearing,to make room for development. Bangalore has lost many thousands in the last few years to 'road widening'. The new four-lane high way that is coming up to connect Krishnagiri to Pondicherry is claiming 19, 000 full-grown trees. And in the cities and towns proper, huge banners are obstructing any sight of even the existing trees. Their branches are cut to facilitate better view of the banners and sign-boards! So did Ogden Nash write:

Ogden Nash: Song of The Open Road

I think that I shall never see
A billboard lovely as a tree.
Indeed, unless the billboards fall
I'll never see a tree at all.




Incidentally, I came across a hilarious account involving Ben Jonson and Shakespeare. It seems once the two were making merry in a tavern. Jonson began to write his epitaph and wrote:

Here lies Ben Jonson

That was once one,

He then gave the paper to Shakespeare to complete. And the Bard wrote:

Who while he lived was a slow thing,

And now being dead, is no thing.

(Taken from The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Sonnets and Poems, OWC)

Poor Ben Jonson! What a fate to befall one who wrote about the tall, dry oak falling like a log!

Note:
I quote these poems purely as a source of joy for every one. Many of these are well known. Some I have taken from old books and magazines in libraries and elsewhere, and copied down in my note books over many years. I have no commercial motive, and no intention to violate any copyright. I will gladly acknowledge the source if I know. If any objection is brought to my notice, I will not hesitate to remove the material.