<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419607" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Cloak Model</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'My son,' the stranger thus began,<br>And drew me to the window side,<br>'Now here are beauties better than<br>You ever have dreamed, or ever can.<br>But yet beware!' he cried. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>A tidy citizen was he<br>Although a dismal daffy one.<br>'See this one pose and pout for me<br>And march around magnificently.<br>But I'm immune, my son. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>'Observe how ripe the lady's lips,<br>How Titianesque the mop of hair,<br>And where the great white shoulder dips<br>Beneath its gauzy half-eclipse,<br>You well may stare and stare. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>'When I was young I said as you<br>Are saying in your sapphic youth, </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>That ah! such lips were certain cue,<br>And look! her bosom's rhythm too,<br>It signified her truth; </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>'Her broad brow meant intelligence<br>And something better than a bone,<br>Her body's curves were spirit's tents,<br>Her fresh young skin was innocence<br>Instead of meat that shone. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>'I wish the moralists would thresh<br>(Indeed the thing is very droll)<br>God's oldest joke, forever fresh:<br>The fact that in the finest flesh<br>There isn't any soul.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Crowe+Ransom">John Crowe Ransom</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=419607" data-title="The Cloak Model de John Crowe Ransom" data-description="'My son,' the stranger thus began, And drew me to the window side, 'Now here are beauties better than You ever have dreamed, or ever can. But yet beware!' he cried. A tidy citizen was he Although a dismal daffy one. 'See this one pose and pout ..."></div> </div> </div>

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