A right little, tight little island!
The glaring bale-fires blaze no more;
No longer steel-clad warriors ride
Along thy wild and willow'd shore.
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Apollo mounts his golden seat,
Replete with seven-fold fire;
While, dazzled by his conquering light,
Heaven's glittering host and awful night
Submissively retire.
HEX: #332F25
RGB: 51 47 37
RGB: 51 47 37
HEX: #66B395
RGB: 102 179 149
RGB: 102 179 149
HEX: #ADBD51
RGB: 173 189 81
RGB: 173 189 81
HEX: #BEC499
RGB: 190 196 153
RGB: 190 196 153
HEX: #FFF8DE
RGB: 255 248 222
RGB: 255 248 222
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.
