* * * * * *
In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides,
Or else where Cam his winding vales divides?
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With flashing streaks and shafts of amethyst,
While a light crimson mist
Went up before the mounting luminary,
And all the strips of cloud began to vary
Their hues, and all the zenith seemed to ope
As if to show a cope beyond the cope!
HEX: #F3AACC
RGB: 243 170 204
RGB: 243 170 204
HEX: #F8CAB6
RGB: 248 202 182
RGB: 248 202 182
HEX: #F9D2A7
RGB: 249 210 167
RGB: 249 210 167
HEX: #D4F3AA
RGB: 212 243 170
RGB: 212 243 170
HEX: #F6F8B6
RGB: 246 248 182
RGB: 246 248 182
Princess of rivers, how I love
Upon thy flowery banks to lie,
And view thy silver stream,
When gilded by a summer's beam!
And in it all thy wanton fry,
Playing at liberty;
And with my angle, upon them
The all of treachery
I ever learned, industriously to try!
