And now, my honey love,
Will we return unto thy father's house
And revel it as bravely read more

And now, my honey love,
Will we return unto thy father's house
And revel it as bravely as the best,
With silken coats and caps and golden rings,
With ruffs and cuffs and farthingales and things;
With scarfs and fans and double change of brav'ry,
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knav'ry.

Attired to please herself: no gems of any kind
She wore, nor aught of borrowed gloss in Nature's stead;
read more

Attired to please herself: no gems of any kind
She wore, nor aught of borrowed gloss in Nature's stead;
And, then her long, loose hair flung round her head
Fell carelessly behind.

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.

A winning wave, (deserving note.)
In the tempestuous petticote,
A careless shoe-string, in whose tye
read more

A winning wave, (deserving note.)
In the tempestuous petticote,
A careless shoe-string, in whose tye
I see a wilde civility,--
Doe more bewitch me than when art
Is too precise in every part.

Distrust any enterprise that requires new clothes.

Distrust any enterprise that requires new clothes.

It's like sending them ruffles, when wanting a shirt.

It's like sending them ruffles, when wanting a shirt.

My galligaskins, that have long withstood
The winter's fury, and encroaching frosts,
By time subdues (what will read more

My galligaskins, that have long withstood
The winter's fury, and encroaching frosts,
By time subdues (what will not time subdue!)
An horrid chasm disclosed.

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.

John Lee is dead, that good old man,--
We ne'er shall see him more:
He used to read more

John Lee is dead, that good old man,--
We ne'er shall see him more:
He used to wear an old drab coat
All buttoned down before.