My Loue in her Attyre doth shew her witt, <br />It doth so well become her: <br />For eu'ry season she hath dressings fitt, <br />For Winter, Spring, and Summer. <br />No Beautie shee doth misse, <br />When all her Robes are on: <br />But Beauties selfe shee is, <br />When all her Robes are gone.<br /><br />Anonymous<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-love-in-her-attire-2/
