Male voice choir and two cellos
Duration c.2'

Anon 17th century.

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.

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