* * * * * *
In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides,
Or else where Cam his winding vales divides?
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With flashing streaks and shafts of amethyst,
While a light crimson mist
Went up before the mounting luminary,
And all the strips of cloud began to vary
Their hues, and all the zenith seemed to ope
As if to show a cope beyond the cope!
HEX: #0E0808
RGB: 14 8 8
RGB: 14 8 8
HEX: #7E1D1D
RGB: 126 29 29
RGB: 126 29 29
HEX: #E22323
RGB: 226 35 35
RGB: 226 35 35
HEX: #5A3614
RGB: 90 54 20
RGB: 90 54 20
HEX: #C0C0A5
RGB: 192 192 165
RGB: 192 192 165
Princess of rivers, how I love
Upon thy flowery banks to lie,
And view thy silver stream,
When gilded by a summer's beam!
And in it all thy wanton fry,
Playing at liberty;
And with my angle, upon them
The all of treachery
I ever learned, industriously to try!
