The glaring bale-fires blaze no more;
No longer steel-clad warriors ride
Along thy wild and willow'd shore.
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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.
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RGB: 65 100 110
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RGB: 172 183 185
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RGB: 28 71 83
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RGB: 215 219 220
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RGB: 255 255 255
Feeling small
When tears are in your eyes
I will dry them allI'm on your side
When times get rough
And friends just can't be found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
