That in trim gardens takes his pleasure.
There is nothing adorning;
The night has no eve,
And the day has no morning;
Cold winter gives warning!
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I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves, opening as I pass.
HEX: #313131
RGB: 49 49 49
RGB: 49 49 49
HEX: #97CE44
RGB: 151 206 68
RGB: 151 206 68
HEX: #C2E83C
RGB: 194 232 60
RGB: 194 232 60
HEX: #D8DECE
RGB: 216 222 206
RGB: 216 222 206
HEX: #FFFFFF
RGB: 255 255 255
RGB: 255 255 255
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.
