Spring may boast her flowery prime,
Yet the vineyard's ruby treasures
Brighten Autumn's sob'rer time.
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Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core.
HEX: #332336
RGB: 51 35 54
RGB: 51 35 54
HEX: #5FA9A4
RGB: 95 169 164
RGB: 95 169 164
HEX: #0E6D88
RGB: 14 109 136
RGB: 14 109 136
HEX: #BFCAB8
RGB: 191 202 184
RGB: 191 202 184
HEX: #F7EBD3
RGB: 247 235 211
RGB: 247 235 211
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou mayest rest
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.
