Ben Jonson — Epigram CXXVIII. To William Roe

Roe (and my joy to name), th'art now to go    Countries, and climes, and manners, and men to know, T' extract, and choose the best of all these knowne,     And those to turne to blood, and make thine owne. May winds as soft as breath of kissing friends,     Attend thee hence; and there, may all thy ends, As the beginnings here, prove surely sweet,     And perfect in a circle always meet. So when we, blest with thy returne, shall see     Thy selfe, with thy first thoughts, brought home by thee, We each to other may this voyce inspire:     This is that good ÆNEAS, pass'd through fire, Through seas, stormes, tempests; and imbarqu'd for hell,     Came back untouch'd. This man hath travail'd well.