How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu' o' care!
Fair winding up to where the Muses haunt
In Twit'nham bowers, and for their Pope implore.
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 1 font
And bright were its flowery banks to his eye;
But far, very far, were the friends that he lov'd,
And he gaz'd on its flowery banks with a sigh.
HEX: #22202E
RGB: 34 32 46
RGB: 34 32 46
HEX: #552A52
RGB: 85 42 82
RGB: 85 42 82
HEX: #DAB765
RGB: 218 183 101
RGB: 218 183 101
HEX: #C6765D
RGB: 198 118 93
RGB: 198 118 93
HEX: #E7DCAD
RGB: 231 220 173
RGB: 231 220 173
With queenly tread;
Thou hast proud fanes above
Thy mighty dead.
Yet wears thy Tiber's shore
A mournful mien:-
Rome, Rome, thou art no more
As thou hast been.
