* * * * * *
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: #47302B
RGB: 71 48 43
RGB: 71 48 43
HEX: #6E456B
RGB: 110 69 107
RGB: 110 69 107
HEX: #331631
RGB: 51 22 49
RGB: 51 22 49
HEX: #EB836E
RGB: 235 131 110
RGB: 235 131 110
HEX: #A695A5
RGB: 166 149 165
RGB: 166 149 165
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!
