Some random bud will meet;
Thou canst not tread, but thou wilt find
The daisy at thy feet.
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And all the daffodils
Are blowing, and the bright blue squills.
I walk down the patterned garden-paths
In my stiff, brocaded gown.
With my powdered hair, and jewelled fan,
I too am a rare
Pattern. As I wander down
The garden paths.
HEX: #756171
RGB: 117 97 113
RGB: 117 97 113
HEX: #E79DA5
RGB: 231 157 165
RGB: 231 157 165
HEX: #FB62CF
RGB: 251 98 207
RGB: 251 98 207
HEX: #DDBB92
RGB: 221 187 146
RGB: 221 187 146
HEX: #C5C8BB
RGB: 197 200 187
RGB: 197 200 187
I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves, opening as I pass.
