How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu' o' care!
Fair winding up to where the Muses haunt
In Twit'nham bowers, and for their Pope implore.
a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z
featuring 2 fonts
And bright were its flowery banks to his eye;
But far, very far, were the friends that he lov'd,
And he gaz'd on its flowery banks with a sigh.
HEX: #4B453B
RGB: 75 69 59
RGB: 75 69 59
HEX: #FA9292
RGB: 250 146 146
RGB: 250 146 146
HEX: #F8B285
RGB: 248 178 133
RGB: 248 178 133
HEX: #B3C48E
RGB: 179 196 142
RGB: 179 196 142
HEX: #E0D67E
RGB: 224 214 126
RGB: 224 214 126
With queenly tread;
Thou hast proud fanes above
Thy mighty dead.
Yet wears thy Tiber's shore
A mournful mien:-
Rome, Rome, thou art no more
As thou hast been.
