STILL to be neat still to be drest
As you were going to a feast;
Still to be powder'd still perfumed:
Lady it is to be presumed
Though art's hid causes are not found 5
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 10
Than all th' adulteries of art;
They strike mine eyes but not my heart.
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