zeezrom wrote:A God who is perfect lacks something. Sweet disorder will usually bewitch me more than perfection.A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wontonness
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction
An erring lace, which here and there
Enthrals the crimson stomacher
A cuff neglectful, and thereby
Ribbands to flow, confusedly
A winning wave, deserving note,
In the tempestuous petticoat
A careless shoe-string, in whose tie
I see a wild civility
Do more bewitch me, than when art
Is too precise in every part.
Robert Herrick (1579-1674)
Excellent. Thank you.