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: #BA4758
RGB: 186 71 88
RGB: 186 71 88
HEX: #DC9486
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RGB: 220 148 134
HEX: #661D3A
RGB: 102 29 58
RGB: 102 29 58
HEX: #CAB6AB
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RGB: 202 182 171
HEX: #FFFFFFD
RGB: 255 255 255
RGB: 255 255 255
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!