Quidquid id est, timeo Danaos et dona ferentis
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Strong, black, and of a noble breed,
Full of fire, and full of bone,
With all his line of fathers known;
Fine his nose, his nostrils thin,
But blown abroad by the pride within;
His mane is like a river flowing,
And his eyes like embers glowing
In the darkness of the night,
And his pace as swift as light.
HEX: #0E1134
RGB: 14 17 52
RGB: 14 17 52
HEX: #111D37
RGB: 17 29 55
RGB: 17 29 55
HEX: #C42B3D
RGB: 196 43 61
RGB: 196 43 61
HEX: #9AA988
RGB: 154 169 136
RGB: 154 169 136
HEX: #E6B966
RGB: 230 185 102
RGB: 230 185 102
In a slow silent walk
With an old horse that stumbles and nods
Half asleep as they stalk.
Only thin smoke without flame
From the heaps of couch-grass;
Yet this will go onward the same
Though Dynasties pass.
Yonder a maid and her wight
Come whispering by:War's annals will cloud into night
Ere their story die.
