<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=390149" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To William Theodore Peters On His Renaissance Cloak</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The cherry-coloured velvet of your cloak<br>Time hath not soiled: its fair embroideries<br>Gleam as when centuries ago they spoke<br>To what bright gallant of Her Daintiness,<br>Whose slender fingers, long since dust and dead,<br>For love or courtesy embroidered<br>The cherry-coloured velvet of this cloak.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! cunning flowers of silk and silver thread,<br>That mock mortality? the broidering dame,<br>The page they decked, the kings and courts are dead:<br>Gone the age beautiful; Lorenzo's name,<br>The Borgia's pride are but an empty sound;<br>But lustrous still upon their velvet ground,<br>Time spares these flowers of silk and silver thread.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gone is that age of pageant and of pride:<br>Yet don your cloak, and haply it shall seem,<br>The curtain of old time is set aside;<br>As through the sadder coloured throng you gleam;<br>We see once more fair dame and gallant gay,<br>The glamour and the grace of yesterday:<br>The elder, brighter age of pomp and pride.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ernest+Christopher+Dowson">Ernest Christopher Dowson</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=390149" data-title="To William Theodore Peters On His Renaissance Cloak de Ernest Christopher Dowson" data-description="The cherry-coloured velvet of your cloak Time hath not soiled: its fair embroideries Gleam as when centuries ago they spoke To what bright gallant of Her Daintiness, Whose slender fingers, long since dust and dead, For love or courtesy embroidered..."></div> </div> </div>

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