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: #5E615A
RGB: 94 97 90
RGB: 94 97 90
HEX: #696B66
RGB: 105 107 102
RGB: 105 107 102
HEX: #979D8F
RGB: 151 157 143
RGB: 151 157 143
HEX: #696A62
RGB: 105 106 98
RGB: 105 106 98
HEX: #A8B2AA
RGB: 168 178 170
RGB: 168 178 170
