Swift without violence, without terror great.
Their blooming wreaths from fair Valclusa's bowers
To Arno's myrtle border.
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Feeling small
When tears are in your eyes
I will dry them allI'm on your side
When times get rough
And friends just can't be found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
HEX: #861C82
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RGB: 134 28 130
HEX: #FBB040
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RGB: 251 176 64
HEX: #E20177
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RGB: 226 1 119
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RGB: 193 216 47
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RGB: 164 215 244
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.