Swift without violence, without terror great.
* * * * * *
In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides,
Or else where Cam his winding vales divides?
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By Clyde's meandering stream,
When Sol in joy is seen to leave
The earth with crimson beam;
When islands that wandered far
Above his sea couch lie,
And here and there some gem-like star
Re-opes its sparkling eye.
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RGB: 70 44 56
HEX: #8EBEC0
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RGB: 142 190 192
HEX: #BB955F
RGB: 187 149 95
RGB: 187 149 95
HEX: #93CD8F
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RGB: 147 205 143
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RGB: 202 241 242
RGB: 202 241 242