Where Tiber rolls majestic to the main,
And flattens, as he runs, the fair campagne.
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How Rome her own sad Sepulchre appears,
With nodding arches, broken temples spread!
The very Tombs now vanish'd like their dead!
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RGB: 152 53 76
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RGB: 237 70 70
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RGB: 203 158 110
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RGB: 229 191 157
God is more there than thou: for thou art there
Only by his permission. Then beware,
And make thyself all reverence and fear.