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.
They, who know no evil, will suspect none.
The dignity of truth is lost with much protesting.
Good men but see death, the wicked taste it.
Language most shows a man, speak that I may see thee.
Whosoever loves not picture is injurious to truth, and all the wisdom of poetry. Picture is the invention of heaven, the most ancient and most akin to nature. It is itself a silent work, and always one and the same habit.