* * * * * *
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: #363F48
RGB: 54 63 72
RGB: 54 63 72
HEX: #F26E21
RGB: 242 110 33
RGB: 242 110 33
HEX: #FFD602
RGB: 255 214 2
RGB: 255 214 2
HEX: #2D839E
RGB: 45 131 158
RGB: 45 131 158
HEX: #65CCA9
RGB: 101 204 169
RGB: 101 204 169
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!
