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: #4A3021
RGB: 74 48 33
RGB: 74 48 33
HEX: #9C6D56
RGB: 156 109 86
RGB: 156 109 86
HEX: #F06D5A
RGB: 240 109 90
RGB: 240 109 90
HEX: #E0AC87
RGB: 224 172 135
RGB: 224 172 135
HEX: #E1D5B5
RGB: 225 213 181
RGB: 225 213 181
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.
