Swift without violence, without terror great.
Where Tiber rolls majestic to the main,
And flattens, as he runs, the fair campagne.
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					RGB: 118 149 154
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					RGB: 187 176 159
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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.