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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

Each Bond-street buck conceits, unhappy elf;
He shows his clothes! alas! he shows himself.
O that they read more

Each Bond-street buck conceits, unhappy elf;
He shows his clothes! alas! he shows himself.
O that they knew, these overdrest self-lovers,
What hides the body oft the mind discovers.

Still to be neat, still to be drest,
As you were going to a feast,
Still to read more

Still to be neat, still to be drest,
As you were going to a feast,
Still to be powder'd, all perfum'd.
Lady, it is to be presumed,
Though art's hid causes are not found,
All is not sweet, all is not sound.

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.

Let thy attyre bee comely, but not costly.

Let thy attyre bee comely, but not costly.