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To a woman, the consciousness of being will dressed gives a sense
of tranquility which religion fails to bestow.
To a woman, the consciousness of being will dressed gives a sense
of tranquility which religion fails to bestow.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not expressed in fancy; rich, not gaudy,
For read more
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not expressed in fancy; rich, not gaudy,
For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
And said to myself, as I lit my cigar,
"Supposing a man had the wealth of the Czar
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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?"
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.
Who seems most hideous when adorned the most.
[Lat., Che quant' era piu ornata, era piu brutta.]
Who seems most hideous when adorned the most.
[Lat., Che quant' era piu ornata, era piu brutta.]
Attired to please herself: no gems of any kind
She wore, nor aught of borrowed gloss in Nature's stead;
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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.
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.
So for thy spirit did devise
Its Maker seemly garniture,
Of its own essence parcel pure.--
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So for thy spirit did devise
Its Maker seemly garniture,
Of its own essence parcel pure.--
From grave simplicities a dress,
And reticent demureness,
And love encinctured with reserve;
Which the woven vesture would subserve.
For outward robes in their ostents
Should show the soul's habiliments.
Therefore I say,--Thou'rt fair even so,
But better Fair I use to know.