if we rightly consider,
every green tree is far more glorious
than if it were made of gold and silver.
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Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.
Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon;
Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon;
Father will come to his babe in the nest,
Silver sails all out of the west
Under the silver moon:
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty
one, sleep.
HEX: #130907
RGB: 19 9 7
RGB: 19 9 7
HEX: #BC7074
RGB: 188 112 116
RGB: 188 112 116
HEX: #D31D50
RGB: 211 29 80
RGB: 211 29 80
HEX: #BBAE9D
RGB: 187 174 157
RGB: 187 174 157
HEX: #E2DDD9
RGB: 226 221 217
RGB: 226 221 217
