* * * * * *
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: #23241E
RGB: 35 36 30
RGB: 35 36 30
HEX: #474B3C
RGB: 71 75 60
RGB: 71 75 60
HEX: #8B371D
RGB: 139 55 29
RGB: 139 55 29
HEX: #657163
RGB: 101 113 99
RGB: 101 113 99
HEX: #EDE2C2
RGB: 237 226 194
RGB: 237 226 194
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!
