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: #680C35
RGB: 104 12 53
RGB: 104 12 53
HEX: #F75D43
RGB: 247 93 67
RGB: 247 93 67
HEX: #906000
RGB: 144 96 0
RGB: 144 96 0
HEX: #F89753
RGB: 248 151 83
RGB: 248 151 83
HEX: #D5D0A6
RGB: 213 208 166
RGB: 213 208 166
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.
