Like a tall bully, lifts the head and lies.
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And all the daffodils
Are blowing, and the bright blue squills.
I walk down the patterned garden-paths
In my stiff, brocaded gown.
With my powdered hair, and jewelled fan,
I too am a rare
Pattern. As I wander down
The garden paths.
HEX: #221716
RGB: 34 23 22
RGB: 34 23 22
HEX: #944237
RGB: 148 66 55
RGB: 148 66 55
HEX: #AB942C
RGB: 171 148 44
RGB: 171 148 44
HEX: #719E7D
RGB: 113 158 125
RGB: 113 158 125
HEX: #FED385
RGB: 254 211 133
RGB: 254 211 133
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.