To gild refined gold,
to paint the lily,
To throw perfume on the violet,
To smooth the ice,
or add another hue,
Unto the rainbow,
or with taper-light
To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess
But man, proud man,
Drest in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he's most assured,
His glassy essence,
like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As make the angels weep.