Kept idle thunder in his lifted hand.
* * * * * *
In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides,
Or else where Cam his winding vales divides?
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RGB: 49 52 51
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RGB: 62 63 66
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RGB: 128 118 105
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RGB: 72 70 76
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RGB: 90 95 83
Princess of rivers, how I love
Upon thy flowery banks to lie,
And view thy silver stream,
When gilded by a summer's beam!
And in it all thy wanton fry,
Playing at liberty;
And with my angle, upon them
The all of treachery
I ever learned, industriously to try!
