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.

O fair undress, best dress! it checks no vein,
But every flowing limb in pleasure drowns,
And read more

O fair undress, best dress! it checks no vein,
But every flowing limb in pleasure drowns,
And heightens ease with grace.

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.

But I do mean to say, I have heard her declare,
When at the same moment she had on read more

But I do mean to say, I have heard her declare,
When at the same moment she had on a dress
Which cost five hundred dollars, and not a cent less,
And jewelry worth tem times more, I should guess,
That he had not a thing in the wide world to wear!

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

Old Grimes is dead, that good old man,
We ne'er shall see him more;
He used to wear a long black coat
All button'd down before.

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.

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.

(Cloten:) Thou villain base,
Know'st me not by my clothes?
(Guiderius:) No, nor thy tailor, rascal,
read more

(Cloten:) Thou villain base,
Know'st me not by my clothes?
(Guiderius:) No, nor thy tailor, rascal,
Who is thy grandfather. He made those clothes,
Which, as it seems, make thee.

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.