That in trim gardens takes his pleasure.
There is nothing adorning;
The night has no eve,
And the day has no morning;
Cold winter gives warning!
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I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves, opening as I pass.
HEX: #090513
RGB: 9 5 19
RGB: 9 5 19
HEX: #BE4728
RGB: 190 71 40
RGB: 190 71 40
HEX: #680F1C
RGB: 104 15 28
RGB: 104 15 28
HEX: #58887D
RGB: 88 136 125
RGB: 88 136 125
HEX: #DDA849
RGB: 221 168 73
RGB: 221 168 73
And half the platform just reflects the other.
The suff'ring eye inverted nature sees,
Trees cut in statues, statues thick as trees;
With here a fountain never to be play'd,
And there a summer-house that knows no shade.
