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: #313131
RGB: 49 49 49
RGB: 49 49 49
HEX: #97CE44
RGB: 151 206 68
RGB: 151 206 68
HEX: #C2E83C
RGB: 194 232 60
RGB: 194 232 60
HEX: #D8DECE
RGB: 216 222 206
RGB: 216 222 206
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RGB: 255 255 255
RGB: 255 255 255
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.
