Where Tiber rolls majestic to the main,
And flattens, as he runs, the fair campagne.
And scarce are seen the prostrate Nile or Rhine;
A small Euphrates thro' the piece is roll'd,
And little eagles wave their wings in gold.
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And bright were its flowery banks to his eye;
But far, very far, were the friends that he lov'd,
And he gaz'd on its flowery banks with a sigh.
HEX: #363F48
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RGB: 54 63 72
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RGB: 242 110 33
HEX: #FFD602
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RGB: 255 214 2
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RGB: 45 131 158
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RGB: 101 204 169
With queenly tread;
Thou hast proud fanes above
Thy mighty dead.
Yet wears thy Tiber's shore
A mournful mien:-
Rome, Rome, thou art no more
As thou hast been.
