A right little, tight little island!
The glaring bale-fires blaze no more;
No longer steel-clad warriors ride
Along thy wild and willow'd shore.
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Apollo mounts his golden seat,
Replete with seven-fold fire;
While, dazzled by his conquering light,
Heaven's glittering host and awful night
Submissively retire.
HEX: #23241E
RGB: 35 36 30
RGB: 35 36 30
HEX: #474B3C
RGB: 71 75 60
RGB: 71 75 60
HEX: #8B371D
RGB: 139 55 29
RGB: 139 55 29
HEX: #657163
RGB: 101 113 99
RGB: 101 113 99
HEX: #EDE2C2
RGB: 237 226 194
RGB: 237 226 194
By Clyde's meandering stream,
When Sol in joy is seen to leave
The earth with crimson beam;
When islands that wandered far
Above his sea couch lie,
And here and there some gem-like star
Re-opes its sparkling eye.