Fair winding up to where the Muses haunt
In Twit'nham bowers, and for their Pope implore.
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With flashing streaks and shafts of amethyst,
While a light crimson mist
Went up before the mounting luminary,
And all the strips of cloud began to vary
Their hues, and all the zenith seemed to ope
As if to show a cope beyond the cope!
HEX: #404252
RGB: 64 66 82
RGB: 64 66 82
HEX: #D89F8C
RGB: 216 159 140
RGB: 216 159 140
HEX: #D06F82
RGB: 208 111 130
RGB: 208 111 130
HEX: #C9BFA7
RGB: 201 191 167
RGB: 201 191 167
HEX: #B7D8CD
RGB: 183 216 205
RGB: 183 216 205
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!
