The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark,
Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs,
Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.
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Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill;
Whilst on his hoary beard his breath did freese,
And the dull drops, that from his purpled bill
As from a limebeck did adown distill:
In his right hand a tipped staffe he held,
With which his feeble steps he stayed still;
For he was faint with cold, and weak with eld;
That scarce his loosed limbes he hable was to weld.
HEX: #6F4287
RGB: 111 66 135
RGB: 111 66 135
HEX: #9C9B62
RGB: 156 155 98
RGB: 156 155 98
HEX: #78255B
RGB: 120 37 91
RGB: 120 37 91
HEX: #C7C7C7
RGB: 199 199 199
RGB: 199 199 199
HEX: #BFF8FF
RGB: 191 248 255
RGB: 191 248 255
