Fair winding up to where the Muses haunt
In Twit'nham bowers, and for their Pope implore.
The glaring bale-fires blaze no more;
No longer steel-clad warriors ride
Along thy wild and willow'd shore.
a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z
featuring 8 fonts
HEX: #0E420B
RGB: 14 66 11
RGB: 14 66 11
HEX: #A21776
RGB: 162 23 118
RGB: 162 23 118
HEX: #1FA217
RGB: 31 162 23
RGB: 31 162 23
HEX: #223A20
RGB: 34 58 32
RGB: 34 58 32
HEX: #3C4D3B
RGB: 60 77 59
RGB: 60 77 59
By Clyde's meandering stream,
When Sol in joy is seen to leave
The earth with crimson beam;
When islands that wandered far
Above his sea couch lie,
And here and there some gem-like star
Re-opes its sparkling eye.