* * * * * *
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: #3C4F54
RGB: 60 79 84
RGB: 60 79 84
HEX: #A695A5
RGB: 166 149 165
RGB: 166 149 165
HEX: #7C455A
RGB: 124 69 90
RGB: 124 69 90
HEX: #98B080
RGB: 152 176 128
RGB: 152 176 128
HEX: #F2F3B2
RGB: 242 243 178
RGB: 242 243 178
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!
