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: #8B8583
RGB: 139 133 131
RGB: 139 133 131
HEX: #8DCECC
RGB: 141 206 204
RGB: 141 206 204
HEX: #BB929F
RGB: 187 146 159
RGB: 187 146 159
HEX: #E3B0A8
RGB: 227 176 168
RGB: 227 176 168
HEX: #D5C8C0
RGB: 213 200 192
RGB: 213 200 192
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!
