* * * * * *
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: #9C9A9E
RGB: 156 154 158
RGB: 156 154 158
HEX: #ADA9A1
RGB: 173 169 161
RGB: 173 169 161
HEX: #ADBCC0
RGB: 173 188 192
RGB: 173 188 192
HEX: #B6B3AD
RGB: 182 179 173
RGB: 182 179 173
HEX: #EDEBF0
RGB: 237 235 240
RGB: 237 235 240
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!
