Swift without violence, without terror great.
The glaring bale-fires blaze no more;
No longer steel-clad warriors ride
Along thy wild and willow'd shore.
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By Clyde's meandering stream,
When Sol in joy is seen to leave
The earth with crimson beam;
When islands that wandered far
Above his sea couch lie,
And here and there some gem-like star
Re-opes its sparkling eye.
HEX: #363F48
RGB: 54 63 72
RGB: 54 63 72
HEX: #F26E21
RGB: 242 110 33
RGB: 242 110 33
HEX: #FFD602
RGB: 255 214 2
RGB: 255 214 2
HEX: #2D839E
RGB: 45 131 158
RGB: 45 131 158
HEX: #65CCA9
RGB: 101 204 169
RGB: 101 204 169
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!
