Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good.A shining gloss that vadeth suddenly,a flower that dies when first it'gins to bud.A brittle glass that's broken presently.A doubtful good,a gloss,a glass,a flower.Lost,vaded broken dead whitin an hour.And as goods lost are seld or never found.As vaded gloss no rubbing will refresh.As flower dead lie on the ground.As broken glass...so beauty blemished once,for ever lost.In spite of physic,painting,pain and cost...