Their blooming wreaths from fair Valclusa's bowers
To Arno's myrtle border.
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What is 't ye do? what life lead? eh, dull goggles?
How do ye vary your vile days and nights?
How pass your Sundays? Are ye still but joggles
In ceaseless wash? Still nought but gapes and bites,
And drinks, and stares, diversified with boggles.
HEX: #182835
RGB: 24 40 53
RGB: 24 40 53
HEX: #8B2E4D
RGB: 139 46 77
RGB: 139 46 77
HEX: #760F46
RGB: 118 15 70
RGB: 118 15 70
HEX: #E35D5E
RGB: 227 93 94
RGB: 227 93 94
HEX: #F5855F
RGB: 245 133 95
RGB: 245 133 95
Princess of rivers, how I love
Upon thy flowery banks to lie,
And view thy silver stream,
When gilded by a summer's beam!
And in it all thy wanton fry,
Playing at liberty;
And with my angle, upon them
The all of treachery
I ever learned, industriously to try!
