* * * * * *
In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides,
Or else where Cam his winding vales divides?
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With flashing streaks and shafts of amethyst,
While a light crimson mist
Went up before the mounting luminary,
And all the strips of cloud began to vary
Their hues, and all the zenith seemed to ope
As if to show a cope beyond the cope!
HEX: #628C46
RGB: 98 140 70
RGB: 98 140 70
HEX: #8CBAA7
RGB: 140 186 167
RGB: 140 186 167
HEX: #535927
RGB: 83 89 39
RGB: 83 89 39
HEX: #D3DED7
RGB: 211 222 215
RGB: 211 222 215
HEX: #EBEAE6
RGB: 235 234 230
RGB: 235 234 230
Princess of rivers, how I love
Upon thy flowery banks to lie,
And view thy silver stream,
When gilded by a summer's beam!
And in it all thy wanton fry,
Playing at liberty;
And with my angle, upon them
The all of treachery
I ever learned, industriously to try!
