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.
a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z
featuring 2 fonts
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: #1A1A18
RGB: 26 26 24
RGB: 26 26 24
HEX: #98A0A7
RGB: 152 160 167
RGB: 152 160 167
HEX: #B51100
RGB: 181 17 0
RGB: 181 17 0
HEX: #C0C8B9
RGB: 192 200 185
RGB: 192 200 185
HEX: #FDFFEC
RGB: 253 255 236
RGB: 253 255 236
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.
