On Ossa, Pelion nods with all his wood.
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The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark,
Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs,
Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.
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RGB: 53 49 38
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RGB: 160 141 135
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RGB: 111 102 37
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RGB: 170 186 209
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RGB: 170 190 215
Will love each peak that shows a kindred hue,
Hail in each crag a friend's familiar face,
And clasp the mountain in his mind's embrace.