Fair winding up to where the Muses haunt
In Twit'nham bowers, and for their Pope implore.
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The glaring bale-fires blaze no more;
No longer steel-clad warriors ride
Along thy wild and willow'd shore.
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RGB: 188 216 189
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RGB: 222 244 226
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RGB: 163 198 179
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RGB: 197 234 225
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RGB: 234 255 231
Their blooming wreaths from fair Valclusa's bowers
To Arno's myrtle border.