Its not growing like a tree
in bulk, doth make man better be;
or standing long an oak, three hundred years,
to fall a log at last, dry, bald and sear.
A lily of a day,
is fairer far in may,
all though it fall and die that night,
it was the plant and flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauties see,
and in short measure life may perfect be.
- Ben Jonson.