Particoloured

O foolish one! this molded earth is naught; This particolored vault of heaven is naught; Our sojourn in this seat of life and death Is but one breath, and what is that but naught?

I selected a pair of loose, dark trousers bound at the waist with a russet sash, a tunic with an open neck and large pockets, and a cloak of the true fuligin of that guild of which I am still officially a master, lined with particolored brocade.