* * * * * *
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: #262342
RGB: 38 35 66
RGB: 38 35 66
HEX: #6E424F
RGB: 110 66 79
RGB: 110 66 79
HEX: #FF9E38
RGB: 255 158 56
RGB: 255 158 56
HEX: #A695A5
RGB: 166 149 165
RGB: 166 149 165
HEX: #F9F6F1
RGB: 249 246 241
RGB: 249 246 241
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!
