Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast, Still to be powder'd, still perfum'd. Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound.
Still to be powder'd, still perfum'd, Lady, it is to be presum'd, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face, That makes simplicity a grace; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free, Such sweet neglect more taketh me Than all the adulteries of art: They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.Ben Jonson
Squinting upon the lustre Of the rich Rings which on his fingers glistre; And, snuffing with a wrythed nose the Amber, The Musk and Civet that perfum'd the chamber.guillaume de salluste du bartas
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