Simplex Munditiis Simplex Munditiis |
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Simplex MunditiisSimplex Munditiis
Simplex Munditiis
Still to be neat, still to be drest,
As you were going to a feast;
Still to be powdr`d, 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.
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