SillStil to be neat, stil to be drest
As if you were going to a feast
Stil to be pawdred, stil perfum'd
Lady it is to be presumd
Wher arts hid causes are not found
Al is not Sweet, all is not sound
Give me a looke give me a face
That make simpicity a grace
Robs loosly hanging hair as free
Such swet neclets best pleases me
There all the adulterys of art
May please my eye but not my hart
By Boy,
in Epicoene (1.1.71-82),
Ben Jonson
in Bodleian Library MS English poetry e. 14, f. 12