When in the catalogue of make-up time
I see descriptions of the fairest sights,
And beauty making beautiful old rhyme
In praise of daytime looks, and lovely nights,
Then, in the perfume of sweet beauty’s best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their eyebrow pen would have express’d
Even such a beauty as you master now.
So all their praises are but prophecies
Of this our time, all you anti-aging;
And, for they look’d but with eyeshadowed eyes,
They had but skill enough your worth to sing:
For we, which now behold makeover days,
Had eyes to wonder, and glossed lips to praise.
-- The Bard of Avon
