How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu' o' care!
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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.
HEX: #A3E0E0
RGB: 163 224 224
RGB: 163 224 224
HEX: #C2EBEB
RGB: 194 235 235
RGB: 194 235 235
HEX: #66CCCC
RGB: 102 204 204
RGB: 102 204 204
HEX: #E2F5F5
RGB: 226 245 245
RGB: 226 245 245
HEX: #F4FBFB
RGB: 244 251 251
RGB: 244 251 251
Land of the vine and olive, lovely Spain!
Though not for thee with classic shores to vie
In charms that fix th' enthusiast's pensive eye;
Yet hast thou scenes of beauty richly fraught
With all that wakes the glow of lofty thought.
