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: #262342
RGB: 38 35 66
RGB: 38 35 66
HEX: #6E424F
RGB: 110 66 79
RGB: 110 66 79
HEX: #FF9E38
RGB: 255 158 56
RGB: 255 158 56
HEX: #A695A5
RGB: 166 149 165
RGB: 166 149 165
HEX: #F9F6F1
RGB: 249 246 241
RGB: 249 246 241
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.
