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.

Fine clothes are good only as they supply the want of other means
of procuring respect.

Fine clothes are good only as they supply the want of other means
of procuring respect.

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

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

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.

He that is proud of the rustling of his silks, like a madman,
laughs at the ratling of his read more

He that is proud of the rustling of his silks, like a madman,
laughs at the ratling of his fetters. For indeed, Clothes ought
to be our remembrancers of our lost innocency.

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.

Beauty when most unclothed is clothed best.

Beauty when most unclothed is clothed best.

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.

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

Old Rose is dead, that good old man,
We ne'er shall see him more;
He used to wear an old blue coat
All buttoned down before.