(Cornwall:) Thou art a strange fellow. A tailor make a man?
(Kent:) A tailor, sir. A stonecutter or a read more

(Cornwall:) Thou art a strange fellow. A tailor make a man?
(Kent:) A tailor, sir. A stonecutter or a painter could not
have made him ill, though they had been but two years o' th'
trade.

So tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child that read more

So tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child that hath new robes
And may not wear them.

Not caring, so that sumpter-horse, the back
Be hung with gaudy trappings, in what course
Yea, rags read more

Not caring, so that sumpter-horse, the back
Be hung with gaudy trappings, in what course
Yea, rags most beggarly, they clothe the soul.

Old Rose is dead, that good old man,
We ne'er shall see him more;
He used to read more

Old Rose is dead, that good old man,
We ne'er shall see him more;
He used to wear an old blue coat
All buttoned down before.

He was a wight of high renowne,
And thosne but of a low degree;
Itt's pride that read more

He was a wight of high renowne,
And thosne but of a low degree;
Itt's pride that putts the countrye downe,
Man, take thine old cloake about thee.

Still to be neat, still to be drest,
As you were going to a feast,
Still to read more

Still to be neat, still to be drest,
As you were going to a feast,
Still to be powder'd, all perfum'd.
Lady, it is to be presumed,
Though art's hid causes are not found,
All is not sweet, all is not sound.

A sweet disorder in the dresse
Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse.

A sweet disorder in the dresse
Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse.

Miss Flora McFlimsey of Madison Square,
Has made three separate journeys to Paris,
And her father assures read more

Miss Flora McFlimsey of Madison Square,
Has made three separate journeys to Paris,
And her father assures me each time she was there
That she and her friend Mrs. Harris . . .
Spent six consecutive weeks, without shopping
In one continuous round of shopping,-- . . .
And yet, though scarce three months have passed since the day
This merchandise went on twelve carts, up Broadway,
This same Miss McFlimsey of Madison Square
The last time we met was in utter despair
Becasue she had nothing whatever to wear.

Dwellers in huts and in marble halls--
From Shepherdess up to Queen--
Cared little for bonnets, and read more

Dwellers in huts and in marble halls--
From Shepherdess up to Queen--
Cared little for bonnets, and less for shawls,
And nothing for crinoline.
But now simplicity's not the rage,
And it's funny to think how cold
The dress they wore in the Golden Age
Would seem in the Age of Gold.