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: #91BEA1
RGB: 145 190 161
RGB: 145 190 161
HEX: #A2DBC4
RGB: 162 219 196
RGB: 162 219 196
HEX: #C0A907
RGB: 192 169 7
RGB: 192 169 7
HEX: #90CCC2
RGB: 144 204 194
RGB: 144 204 194
HEX: #E9E0C4
RGB: 233 224 196
RGB: 233 224 196
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.
