A right little, tight little island!
The glaring bale-fires blaze no more;
No longer steel-clad warriors ride
Along thy wild and willow'd shore.
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Apollo mounts his golden seat,
Replete with seven-fold fire;
While, dazzled by his conquering light,
Heaven's glittering host and awful night
Submissively retire.
HEX: #498278
RGB: 73 130 120
RGB: 73 130 120
HEX: #D59B83
RGB: 213 155 131
RGB: 213 155 131
HEX: #C25C60
RGB: 194 92 96
RGB: 194 92 96
HEX: #98BEE5
RGB: 152 190 229
RGB: 152 190 229
HEX: #F5DEB4
RGB: 245 222 180
RGB: 245 222 180
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.
