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.
HEX: #444444
RGB: 68 68 68
RGB: 68 68 68
HEX: #A9A17A
RGB: 169 161 122
RGB: 169 161 122
HEX: #8C0005
RGB: 140 0 5
RGB: 140 0 5
HEX: #B52C00
RGB: 181 44 0
RGB: 181 44 0
HEX: #FCF7D1
RGB: 252 247 209
RGB: 252 247 209
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.
