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: #1AB0EB
RGB: 26 176 235
RGB: 26 176 235
HEX: #3BBAEC
RGB: 59 186 236
RGB: 59 186 236
HEX: #0895CC
RGB: 8 149 204
RGB: 8 149 204
HEX: #53C2EE
RGB: 83 194 238
RGB: 83 194 238
HEX: #87D3F0
RGB: 135 211 240
RGB: 135 211 240
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!