if we rightly consider,
every green tree is far more glorious
than if it were made of gold and silver.
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Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.
Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon;
Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon;
Father will come to his babe in the nest,
Silver sails all out of the west
Under the silver moon:
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty
one, sleep.
HEX: #1F1837
RGB: 31 24 55
RGB: 31 24 55
HEX: #F78C56
RGB: 247 140 86
RGB: 247 140 86
HEX: #E33445
RGB: 227 52 69
RGB: 227 52 69
HEX: #F3E358
RGB: 243 227 88
RGB: 243 227 88
HEX: #F5EDC6
RGB: 245 237 198
RGB: 245 237 198
