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In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides,
Or else where Cam his winding vales divides?
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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.
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RGB: 98 20 23
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RGB: 123 17 19
RGB: 123 17 19
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RGB: 213 5 6
RGB: 213 5 6
HEX: #A40B0D
RGB: 164 11 13
RGB: 164 11 13
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RGB: 255 255 15
Land of the vine and olive, lovely Spain!
Though not for thee with classic shores to vie
In charms that fix th' enthusiast's pensive eye;
Yet hast thou scenes of beauty richly fraught
With all that wakes the glow of lofty thought.
