They crown'd him long ago
On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds,
With a diadem of snow.
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Mount o'er the Vales, and seem to tread the Sky;
Th' Eternal Snows appear already past,
And the first Clouds and Mountains seem the last:
But those attain'd, we tremble to survey
The growing Labours of the lengthen'd Way,
Th' increasing Prospect tires our wandring Eyes,
Hills peep o'er Hills, and Alps on Alps arise!
HEX: #27103A
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RGB: 39 16 58
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RGB: 75 26 58
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RGB: 244 77 26
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RGB: 25 154 136
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RGB: 191 197 98