Some, not so large, in rings,
A ruby, and a pearl or so,
Will do for me; I laugh at show.
My dame should dress in cheap attire
(Good, heavy silks are never dear);
I own, perhaps, I might desire
Some shawls of true Cashmere—
Some marrowy crapes of China silk,
Like wrinkled skins on scalded milk.
Wealth’s wasteful tricks I will not learn,