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: #384857
RGB: 56 72 87
RGB: 56 72 87
HEX: #A4684E
RGB: 164 104 78
RGB: 164 104 78
HEX: #9B402E
RGB: 155 64 46
RGB: 155 64 46
HEX: #AE8A7E
RGB: 174 138 126
RGB: 174 138 126
HEX: #B7AD94
RGB: 183 173 148
RGB: 183 173 148
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.
