* * * * * *
In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides,
Or else where Cam his winding vales divides?
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With flashing streaks and shafts of amethyst,
While a light crimson mist
Went up before the mounting luminary,
And all the strips of cloud began to vary
Their hues, and all the zenith seemed to ope
As if to show a cope beyond the cope!
HEX: #3C3930
RGB: 60 57 48
RGB: 60 57 48
HEX: #277DA0
RGB: 39 125 160
RGB: 39 125 160
HEX: #0F5696
RGB: 15 86 150
RGB: 15 86 150
HEX: #EAEACE
RGB: 234 234 206
RGB: 234 234 206
HEX: #F0ECE9
RGB: 240 236 233
RGB: 240 236 233
Princess of rivers, how I love
Upon thy flowery banks to lie,
And view thy silver stream,
When gilded by a summer's beam!
And in it all thy wanton fry,
Playing at liberty;
And with my angle, upon them
The all of treachery
I ever learned, industriously to try!
