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: #C11515
RGB: 193 21 21
RGB: 193 21 21
HEX: #196DFF
RGB: 25 109 255
RGB: 25 109 255
HEX: #FFAB19
RGB: 255 171 25
RGB: 255 171 25
HEX: #444546
RGB: 68 69 70
RGB: 68 69 70
HEX: #9E9E9E
RGB: 158 158 158
RGB: 158 158 158
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.
