Where Tiber rolls majestic to the main,
And flattens, as he runs, the fair campagne.
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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.
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RGB: 164 176 140
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RGB: 150 181 152
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RGB: 53 40 24
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RGB: 175 177 108
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RGB: 117 225 164
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.
