My Love in Her Attire by Author Unknown

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 she is,
When all her robes are gone.

My Love in Her Attire by Author Unknown