The Nacreous Oughts

22 July 2004

   “At a Danse Macabre

The glittering topaz in your glass
Was vintaged forty years ago;
Your emerald has seen eight Kings pass,
A thousand thousand candles glow.

Watched in a jewel, the taper curls;
The royal men, the wine that flows
Are tints and crowns; the peerless girls
Are broken shadows of a rose.”

Charles Spear 

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