At objects in an airy height;
The little pleasure of the game
Is from afar to view the flight.
Nor the pride, nor ample pinion,
That the Theban eagle bear,
Sailing with supreme dominion
Thro' the azure deep of air.
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That once an eagle, stricken with a dart,
Said, when he saw the fashion of the shaft,
"With our own feathers, not by others' hands,
Are we now smitten."
HEX: #C11D4F
RGB: 193 29 79
RGB: 193 29 79
HEX: #22959D
RGB: 34 149 157
RGB: 34 149 157
HEX: #180848
RGB: 24 8 72
RGB: 24 8 72
HEX: #EAD8BB
RGB: 234 216 187
RGB: 234 216 187
HEX: #E9E75B
RGB: 233 231 91
RGB: 233 231 91
To fledge the shaft by which he meets his doom,
See their own feathers pluck'd to wing the dart
Which rank corruption destines for their heart.
