Smile on the brow of the waters.
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu' o' care!
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First gilds the clouds, then shows his globe of light
At such a distance from our eyes, as though
He knew what harm his hasty beams would do.
HEX: #3C4F54
RGB: 60 79 84
RGB: 60 79 84
HEX: #A695A5
RGB: 166 149 165
RGB: 166 149 165
HEX: #7C455A
RGB: 124 69 90
RGB: 124 69 90
HEX: #98B080
RGB: 152 176 128
RGB: 152 176 128
HEX: #F2F3B2
RGB: 242 243 178
RGB: 242 243 178
With queenly tread;
Thou hast proud fanes above
Thy mighty dead.
Yet wears thy Tiber's shore
A mournful mien:-
Rome, Rome, thou art no more
As thou hast been.
