With comfort are downward gazing.
A box where sweets compacted lie,
My musick shows ye have your closes,
And all must die.
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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.
HEX: #452731
RGB: 69 39 49
RGB: 69 39 49
HEX: #664649
RGB: 102 70 73
RGB: 102 70 73
HEX: #652A30
RGB: 101 42 48
RGB: 101 42 48
HEX: #A1897D
RGB: 161 137 125
RGB: 161 137 125
HEX: #CCC1AD
RGB: 204 193 173
RGB: 204 193 173
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core.
