* * * * * *
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: #5C2F1A
RGB: 92 47 26
RGB: 92 47 26
HEX: #E2C4BE
RGB: 226 196 190
RGB: 226 196 190
HEX: #241404
RGB: 36 20 4
RGB: 36 20 4
HEX: #E0D7B8
RGB: 224 215 184
RGB: 224 215 184
HEX: #E6E2D6
RGB: 230 226 214
RGB: 230 226 214
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!
