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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455469" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Letter Written For My Daughter To A Lady, Who Had Presented Her With A Cap.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your late kind Gift let me restore;<br>For I must never wear it more.<br>My Mother cries, ``What's here to do?<br>``A Crimson Velvet Cap for you!<br>``If to these Heights so soon you climb,<br>``You'll wear a Coachman's Cap in time:<br>``Perhaps on Palfry pace along,<br>``With ruffled Shirt, and Tete--Moutton;<br>``Banish the Woman from your Face,<br>``And let the Rake supply the Place;<br>``Delighted see the People stare,<br>``And ask each other what you are?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If she goes on to this dull Tune,<br>Poor I must be a Quaker soon.<br>She'll scarcely let me wear a Knot;<br>But keeps me like a Hottentot;<br>Says, Dressing plain, at small Expence,<br>Shews better Taste, and better Sense.<br>I'd take her Judgment, I confess,<br>Sooner in any Thing, than Dress;<br>A Science, which she little knows,<br>Who only huddles on her Cloaths.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This Day, to please my Brother Con.<br>She let me put your Present on;<br>And when she saw me very glad,<br>Cry'd out, She looks like one that's mad!<br>``Know, Girl, (says she) that Affectation<br>``Suits only those in higher Station;<br>``Who plead Prescription for their Rule,<br>``Whene'er they please to play the Fool:<br>``But that it best becomes us Cits,<br>``To dress like People in their Wits.''</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mary+Barber">Mary Barber</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455469" data-title="A Letter Written For My Daughter To A Lady, Who Had Presented Her With A Cap. de Mary Barber" data-description="Your late kind Gift let me restore;
For I must never wear it more.
My Mother cries, ``What's here to do?
``A Crimson Velvet Cap for you!
``If to these Heights so soon you climb,
``You'll wear a Coachman's Cap in time:
``Perhaps on Palfry pace alon..."></div>
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