A night-cap deck'd his brows instead of bay,
A cap by night,--a stocking all the day.

A night-cap deck'd his brows instead of bay,
A cap by night,--a stocking all the day.

It is not linen you're wearing out,
But human creatures' lives.

It is not linen you're wearing out,
But human creatures' lives.

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!

Old Abram Brown is dead and gone,--
You'll never see him more;
He used to wear a read more

Old Abram Brown is dead and gone,--
You'll never see him more;
He used to wear a long brown coat
That buttoned down before.

A painted vest Prince Voltiger had on,
Which from a naked Pict his grandsire won.

A painted vest Prince Voltiger had on,
Which from a naked Pict his grandsire won.

Dresses for breakfasts, and dinners, and balls.
Dresses to sit in, and stand in, and walk in;
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Dresses for breakfasts, and dinners, and balls.
Dresses to sit in, and stand in, and walk in;
Dresses to dance in, and flirt in, and talk in,
Dresses in which to do nothing at all;
Dresses for Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall;
All of them different in color and shape.
Silk, muslin, and lace, velvet, satin, and crape,
Brocade and broadcloth, and other material,
Quite as expensive and much more ethereal.

So for thy spirit did devise
Its Maker seemly garniture,
Of its own essence parcel pure.--
read more

So for thy spirit did devise
Its Maker seemly garniture,
Of its own essence parcel pure.--
From grave simplicities a dress,
And reticent demureness,
And love encinctured with reserve;
Which the woven vesture would subserve.
For outward robes in their ostents
Should show the soul's habiliments.
Therefore I say,--Thou'rt fair even so,
But better Fair I use to know.

The nakedness of the indigent world may be clothed from the
trimmings of the vain.

The nakedness of the indigent world may be clothed from the
trimmings of the vain.

He that is proud of the rustling of his silks, like a madman,
laughs at the ratling of his read more

He that is proud of the rustling of his silks, like a madman,
laughs at the ratling of his fetters. For indeed, Clothes ought
to be our remembrancers of our lost innocency.