With comfort are downward gazing.
A box where sweets compacted lie,
My musick shows ye have your closes,
And all must die.
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And half the platform just reflects the other.
The suff'ring eye inverted nature sees,
Trees cut in statues, statues thick as trees;
With here a fountain never to be play'd,
And there a summer-house that knows no shade.
HEX: #EE8728
RGB: 238 135 40
RGB: 238 135 40
HEX: #EBA246
RGB: 235 162 70
RGB: 235 162 70
HEX: #C0260E
RGB: 192 38 14
RGB: 192 38 14
HEX: #DADA13
RGB: 218 218 19
RGB: 218 218 19
HEX: #E1EE7F
RGB: 225 238 127
RGB: 225 238 127
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core.
