Maxioms by Ben Jonson
Still to be neat, still to be drest,
As you were going to a feast,
Still to read more
Still to be neat, still to be drest,
As you were going to a feast,
Still to be powder'd, all perfum'd.
Lady, it is to be presumed,
Though art's hid causes are not found,
All is not sweet, all is not sound.
A brute without a single redeeming point.
A brute without a single redeeming point.
He was not of an age, but for all time!
And all the Muses still were in their prime,
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He was not of an age, but for all time!
And all the Muses still were in their prime,
When, like Apollo, he came forth to warm
Our ears, or like a Mercury to charm!
In the hope to meet
Shortly again, and make our absence sweet.
In the hope to meet
Shortly again, and make our absence sweet.
