How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu' o' care!
Fair winding up to where the Muses haunt
In Twit'nham bowers, and for their Pope implore.
a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z
featuring 2 fonts
And bright were its flowery banks to his eye;
But far, very far, were the friends that he lov'd,
And he gaz'd on its flowery banks with a sigh.
HEX: #1B4D82
RGB: 27 77 130
RGB: 27 77 130
HEX: #764026
RGB: 118 64 38
RGB: 118 64 38
HEX: #884300
RGB: 136 67 0
RGB: 136 67 0
HEX: #A695A5
RGB: 166 149 165
RGB: 166 149 165
HEX: #FECF2B
RGB: 254 207 43
RGB: 254 207 43
With queenly tread;
Thou hast proud fanes above
Thy mighty dead.
Yet wears thy Tiber's shore
A mournful mien:-
Rome, Rome, thou art no more
As thou hast been.
