Swift without violence, without terror great.
We often give our enemies the means of our own destruction.
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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.
HEX: #572635
RGB: 87 38 53
RGB: 87 38 53
HEX: #873043
RGB: 135 48 67
RGB: 135 48 67
HEX: #852437
RGB: 133 36 55
RGB: 133 36 55
HEX: #A3697E
RGB: 163 105 126
RGB: 163 105 126
HEX: #D9AABB
RGB: 217 170 187
RGB: 217 170 187
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.
