Swift without violence, without terror great.
The glaring bale-fires blaze no more;
No longer steel-clad warriors ride
Along thy wild and willow'd shore.
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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.
HEX: #514F5E
RGB: 81 79 94
RGB: 81 79 94
HEX: #8B5353
RGB: 139 83 83
RGB: 139 83 83
HEX: #DD7E62
RGB: 221 126 98
RGB: 221 126 98
HEX: #EFAD75
RGB: 239 173 117
RGB: 239 173 117
HEX: #E9D1A0
RGB: 233 209 160
RGB: 233 209 160
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!
