It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make man better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log, dry, bald and sere:
A lily of a day,
Is fairer far, in May,
Although it fall, and die that night;
It was the plant and flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauties see,
And in short measures life may perfect be.

LXX, To the Immortal Memory of Sir Lucius Cary and Sir Henry Morison, lines 65-74. - The Works of Ben Jonson, Second Folio (1640) - Underwoods