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He will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a color she
abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she read more
He will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a color she
abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will
smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her
disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it
cannot but turn him into a notable contempt.
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.
Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new.
Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new.
See where she comes, apparelled like the spring,
Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king
Of read more
See where she comes, apparelled like the spring,
Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king
Of every virtue gives renown to men!
How his eyes languish! how his thoughts adore
That painted coat, which Joseph never wore!
He shows, read more
How his eyes languish! how his thoughts adore
That painted coat, which Joseph never wore!
He shows, on holidays, a sacred pin,
That touch'd the ruff, that touched Queen Bess' chin.
Let thy attyre bee comely, but not costly.
Let thy attyre bee comely, but not costly.
A sweet disorder in the dresse
Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse.
A sweet disorder in the dresse
Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse.
Her cap, far whiter than the driven snow,
Emblem right meet of decency does yield.
Her cap, far whiter than the driven snow,
Emblem right meet of decency does yield.
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.