How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu' o' care!
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And bright were its flowery banks to his eye;
But far, very far, were the friends that he lov'd,
And he gaz'd on its flowery banks with a sigh.
HEX: #2E2124
RGB: 46 33 36
RGB: 46 33 36
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RGB: 63 68 209
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RGB: 255 165 20
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RGB: 222 222 222
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RGB: 240 255 252
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.