With comfort are downward gazing.
A box where sweets compacted lie,
My musick shows ye have your closes,
And all must die.
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And half the platform just reflects the other.
The suff'ring eye inverted nature sees,
Trees cut in statues, statues thick as trees;
With here a fountain never to be play'd,
And there a summer-house that knows no shade.
HEX: #1E191D
RGB: 30 25 29
RGB: 30 25 29
HEX: #5F1E24
RGB: 95 30 36
RGB: 95 30 36
HEX: #D23D43
RGB: 210 61 67
RGB: 210 61 67
HEX: #5A715D
RGB: 90 113 93
RGB: 90 113 93
HEX: #ADCFAC
RGB: 173 207 172
RGB: 173 207 172
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core.
