Keep it plain, please

“Pilgrims Going to Church ,” by George Henry Boughton (1867)

“Down to the Puritan marrow of my bones

There’s something in this richness that I hate.

I love the look, austere, immaculate,

Of landscapes drawn in pearly monotones.’’

— From “Puritan Sonnet,’’ by Elinor Wylie (1885-1928)