Ye with your tailors may devise,
To have them loose with plaits and plies,
Or claspit close behind:
The stuff, my heart, ye need not hain,
Pan velvet raised, figurit or plain,
Silk, satin, damask, or grograin,
The finest ye can find.
Your claiths on colours cuttit out,
And all pasmented[303] round about,
My blessing on that seemly snout,