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: #424D45
RGB: 66 77 69
RGB: 66 77 69
HEX: #777C76
RGB: 119 124 118
RGB: 119 124 118
HEX: #779891
RGB: 119 152 145
RGB: 119 152 145
HEX: #BCBFAA
RGB: 188 191 170
RGB: 188 191 170
HEX: #C8D3CF
RGB: 200 211 207
RGB: 200 211 207
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!
