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.

A sweet disorder in the dresse
Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse.

A sweet disorder in the dresse
Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse.

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.

She wears her clothes as if they were thrown on her with a
pitchfork.

She wears her clothes as if they were thrown on her with a
pitchfork.

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.

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.

She's adorned
Amply, that in her husband's eye looks lovely,--
The truest mirror that an honest wife
read more

She's adorned
Amply, that in her husband's eye looks lovely,--
The truest mirror that an honest wife
Can see her beauty in!

Dress does not give knowledge.
[Sp., La ropa no da ciencia.]

Dress does not give knowledge.
[Sp., La ropa no da ciencia.]

To treat a poor wretch with a bottle of Burgundy, and fill his
snuff-box, is like giving a pair read more

To treat a poor wretch with a bottle of Burgundy, and fill his
snuff-box, is like giving a pair of laced ruffles to a man that
has never a shirt on his back.