That in trim gardens takes his pleasure.
There is nothing adorning;
The night has no eve,
And the day has no morning;
Cold winter gives warning!
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I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves, opening as I pass.
HEX: #1E191D
RGB: 30 25 29
RGB: 30 25 29
HEX: #5F1E24
RGB: 95 30 36
RGB: 95 30 36
HEX: #D23D43
RGB: 210 61 67
RGB: 210 61 67
HEX: #5A715D
RGB: 90 113 93
RGB: 90 113 93
HEX: #ADCFAC
RGB: 173 207 172
RGB: 173 207 172
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.
