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: #98A6A7
RGB: 152 166 167
RGB: 152 166 167
HEX: #A3A2B4
RGB: 163 162 180
RGB: 163 162 180
HEX: #397494
RGB: 57 116 148
RGB: 57 116 148
HEX: #D9A2A5
RGB: 217 162 165
RGB: 217 162 165
HEX: #D2C5BD
RGB: 210 197 189
RGB: 210 197 189
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!
