Which on the shaft that made him die
Espied a feather of his own,
Wherewith he wont to soar so high.
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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."
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RGB: 64 69 63
RGB: 64 69 63
HEX: #DF6907
RGB: 223 105 7
RGB: 223 105 7
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RGB: 242 145 42
HEX: #DCF424
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RGB: 220 244 36
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.