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: #122673
RGB: 18 38 115
RGB: 18 38 115
HEX: #142773
RGB: 20 39 115
RGB: 20 39 115
HEX: #F2740C
RGB: 242 116 12
RGB: 242 116 12
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RGB: 20 39 117
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RGB: 29 97 9
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.
