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Read more poems by Ben Jonson: Ben Jonson Poems at Poetry X.

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.

Added: 6 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 13 Feb 2012 2:01 AM | Viewed: 4136 times

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