* * * * * *
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: #0C2445
RGB: 12 36 69
RGB: 12 36 69
HEX: #453C57
RGB: 69 60 87
RGB: 69 60 87
HEX: #000D35
RGB: 0 13 53
RGB: 0 13 53
HEX: #706174
RGB: 112 97 116
RGB: 112 97 116
HEX: #928090
RGB: 146 128 144
RGB: 146 128 144
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!
