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.

Fare you well, my lord, and believe this of me: there can be no
kernel in this light nut; read more

Fare you well, my lord, and believe this of me: there can be no
kernel in this light nut; the soul of this man is his clothes.
Trust him not in matter of heavy consequence.

O fair undress, best dress! it checks no vein,
But every flowing limb in pleasure drowns,
And read more

O fair undress, best dress! it checks no vein,
But every flowing limb in pleasure drowns,
And heightens ease with grace.

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.

A winning wave, (deserving note.)
In the tempestuous petticote,
A careless shoe-string, in whose tye
read more

A winning wave, (deserving note.)
In the tempestuous petticote,
A careless shoe-string, in whose tye
I see a wilde civility,--
Doe more bewitch me than when art
Is too precise in every part.

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.

Dwellers in huts and in marble halls--
From Shepherdess up to Queen--
Cared little for bonnets, and read more

Dwellers in huts and in marble halls--
From Shepherdess up to Queen--
Cared little for bonnets, and less for shawls,
And nothing for crinoline.
But now simplicity's not the rage,
And it's funny to think how cold
The dress they wore in the Golden Age
Would seem in the Age of Gold.

See where she comes, apparelled like the spring,
Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king
Of read more

See where she comes, apparelled like the spring,
Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king
Of every virtue gives renown to men!

Thy clothes are all the soul thou hast.

Thy clothes are all the soul thou hast.