Monday, July 11, 2011
My Love In Her Attire
My Love in her attire doth shew her wit,
It doth so well become her:
For every season she hath dressings fit,
For Winter, Spring, and Summer.
No beauty she doth miss
When all her robes are on:
But Beauty's self she is
When all her robes are gone.
Without knowing the context anonymous poems must stand by the text alone. They occur for a number of reasons. In the above, and seeing that the poem was written some time ago, it may have been because the author did not want their name associated with what could have been risque text.
What is more beautiful than the human body. The temple of the soul. Shame about obesity though! Clothes cover a multitude of sins ...and in some cases perhaps preventing the same.
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