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.
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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."
HEX: #93859A
RGB: 147 133 154
RGB: 147 133 154
HEX: #9EBFA3
RGB: 158 191 163
RGB: 158 191 163
HEX: #381A2E
RGB: 56 26 46
RGB: 56 26 46
HEX: #CAD69D
RGB: 202 214 157
RGB: 202 214 157
HEX: #E8E1BF
RGB: 232 225 191
RGB: 232 225 191
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.
