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: #78757D
RGB: 120 117 125
RGB: 120 117 125
HEX: #9AB5A3
RGB: 154 181 163
RGB: 154 181 163
HEX: #6B575F
RGB: 107 87 95
RGB: 107 87 95
HEX: #ABBF9F
RGB: 171 191 159
RGB: 171 191 159
HEX: #C9D1B2
RGB: 201 209 178
RGB: 201 209 178
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.
