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: #9C5B44
RGB: 156 91 68
RGB: 156 91 68
HEX: #738780
RGB: 115 135 128
RGB: 115 135 128
HEX: #082128
RGB: 8 33 40
RGB: 8 33 40
HEX: #E0B368
RGB: 224 179 104
RGB: 224 179 104
HEX: #DFDBA6
RGB: 223 219 166
RGB: 223 219 166
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.
