TESTO DEL LIED

"My Love in her attire doth show her wit"
di anonimo

My Love in her attire doth show 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, Beauty's self she is
When all her robes are gone.