Classic Poem

C RISPINUS was changing his dress yesterday
And handed his cloak to a stranger, they say.
Please return it, good sir, and we'll count it a joke:
It is not Crispinus who asks, but the cloak.
With commonplace wearers that stuff will not go,
Its Syrian purple requires a beau.
If you're just out for plunder and don't want it known,
The next time you try, lay your hands on a gown.