Ben Jonson

“ STILL to be neat, still to be drest,
As you were going to a feast;
Still to be powdered, 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. ”

“ QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair,
⁠Now the Sun is laid to sleep;
Seated in thy silver chair,
⁠State in wonted manner keep:
Hesperus entreats thy light,
Goddess excellently bright.
Earth, let not thy envious shade
⁠Dare itself to interpose ”

“ STILL to be neat, still to be drest,
As you were going to a feast; ”