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: #8E7571
RGB: 142 117 113
RGB: 142 117 113
HEX: #827A78
RGB: 130 122 120
RGB: 130 122 120
HEX: #4E433D
RGB: 78 67 61
RGB: 78 67 61
HEX: #898681
RGB: 137 134 129
RGB: 137 134 129
HEX: #B1B0AE
RGB: 177 176 174
RGB: 177 176 174
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.
