Fold on fold the purple, crimson then
Gold? I shook my head and turned away.
What? I turned and glared in that barbaric den.
"Gray!"
Ashes, rats! You cannot, cannot mean it, surely?
"Yes," I chirped, "I'm weary; I have had a day; One thing only suits me, purely and demurely
Gray."
Doves and twilight seas, fog and thistle-down,
Granite quarried too; pearl, with all array
Of colors quenched within. But you saida clown!
Gray!
"Yes, I understand; but you don't understand
I'm the clown of heaven and mean to have my way. Cut me cloak and doublet. This is my command
Gray!"
