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			 Fare you well, my lord, and believe this of me: there can be no 
kernel in this light nut; read more 
	 Fare you well, my lord, and believe this of me: there can be no 
kernel in this light nut; the soul of this man is his clothes. 
Trust him not in matter of heavy consequence. 
		
 
	
			 Dress does not give knowledge.
 [Sp., La ropa no da ciencia.]  
	 Dress does not give knowledge.
 [Sp., La ropa no da ciencia.] 
		
 
	
			 Be pain in dress, and sober in your diet;
 In short, my deary, kiss me! and be quiet.  
	 Be pain in dress, and sober in your diet;
 In short, my deary, kiss me! and be quiet. 
		
 
	
			 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. 
		
 
	
			 Her polish'd limbs,
 Veil'd in a simple robe, their best attire;
  Beyond the pomp of dress; for read more 
	 Her polish'd limbs,
 Veil'd in a simple robe, their best attire;
  Beyond the pomp of dress; for Loveliness
   Needs not the foreign aid of ornament,
    But is, when unadorn'd the most. 
		
 
	
			 If most of us are ashamed of shabby clothes and shoddy furniture, 
let us be more ashamed of shabby read more 
	 If most of us are ashamed of shabby clothes and shoddy furniture, 
let us be more ashamed of shabby ideas and shoddy 
philosophies. . . . It would be a sad situation if the wrapper 
were better than the meat wrapped inside it. 
		
 
	
			 Around his form his loose long robe was thrown,
 And wrapt a breast bestowed on heaven alone.  
	 Around his form his loose long robe was thrown,
 And wrapt a breast bestowed on heaven alone. 
		
 
	
			 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. 
		
 
	
			 Now old Tredgortha's dead and gone,
 We ne'er shall see him more;
  He used to wear an read more 
	 Now old Tredgortha's dead and gone,
 We ne'er shall see him more;
  He used to wear an old grey coat,
   All buttoned down before.