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

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

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.

John Lee is dead, that good old man,--
We ne'er shall see him more:
He used to read more

John Lee is dead, that good old man,--
We ne'er shall see him more:
He used to wear an old drab coat
All buttoned down before.

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.

Thy clothes are all the soul thou hast.

Thy clothes are all the soul thou hast.

Dresses for breakfasts, and dinners, and balls.
Dresses to sit in, and stand in, and walk in;
read more

Dresses for breakfasts, and dinners, and balls.
Dresses to sit in, and stand in, and walk in;
Dresses to dance in, and flirt in, and talk in,
Dresses in which to do nothing at all;
Dresses for Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall;
All of them different in color and shape.
Silk, muslin, and lace, velvet, satin, and crape,
Brocade and broadcloth, and other material,
Quite as expensive and much more ethereal.

A painted vest Prince Voltiger had on,
Which from a naked Pict his grandsire won.

A painted vest Prince Voltiger had on,
Which from a naked Pict his grandsire won.

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.

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.