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

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

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.

His locked, lettered, braw brass collar,
Shewed him the gentleman and scholar.

His locked, lettered, braw brass collar,
Shewed him the gentleman and scholar.

Around his form his loose long robe was thrown,
And wrapt a breast bestowed on heaven alone.

Around his form his loose long robe was thrown,
And wrapt a breast bestowed on heaven alone.

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.

And said to myself, as I lit my cigar,
"Supposing a man had the wealth of the Czar
read more

And said to myself, as I lit my cigar,
"Supposing a man had the wealth of the Czar
Of the Russias to boot, for the rest of his days,
On the whole do you think he would have much to spare
If he married a woman with nothing to wear?"

So tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child that read more

So tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child that hath new robes
And may not wear them.

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.

Dress drains our cellar dry,
And keeps our larder lean; puts out our fires
And introduces hunger, read more

Dress drains our cellar dry,
And keeps our larder lean; puts out our fires
And introduces hunger, frost, and woe,
Where peace and hospitality might reign.