A sweet disorder in the dresse Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse.

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.

His locked, lettered, braw brass collar, Shewed him the gentleman and scholar.

Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new.

Welcome maids of honour, / You do bring / In the Spring; / And wait upon her.

The body is the soul's poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam.