With comfort are downward gazing.
A box where sweets compacted lie,
My musick shows ye have your closes,
And all must die.
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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.
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RGB: 29 108 244
HEX: #1D6CF4
RGB: 29 108 244
RGB: 29 108 244
HEX: #0A3277
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RGB: 10 50 119
HEX: #0A3277
RGB: 10 50 119
RGB: 10 50 119
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RGB: 255 255 15
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core.
