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Song From The Silent Woman / Ben Jonson |
Song From The Silent Woman / Ben Jonson
Still to be neat,
still to be dressed,
As you were going to a feast;
Still to be powdered,
still perfumed:
Lady, it is to be presumed,
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 th' adulteries of art:
They strike mine eyes,
but not my heart.
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