In chapter Sounds, Thoreau finds the owls sounds and singing to be "Ben Jonsonian." He was an English dramatist and poet 1573?–1637.Their dismal scream is truly Ben Jonsonian."
"When other birds are still, the screech owls take up the strain, like mourning women their ancient u-lu-lu.
I love this poem from Ben Jonson very much:
Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I’ll not look for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise
Doth ask a drink divine;
But might I of Jove’s nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honouring thee
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not withered be.
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sent’st it back to me;
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.