Its mother was weeping.
of the tree of poetry
that is eternity wearing
the green leaves of time.
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RGB: 101 81 90
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RGB: 85 104 102
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RGB: 26 21 51
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RGB: 175 149 112
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RGB: 243 211 150
Up stairs and doon stairs in his nicht-goun,
Tirlin' at the window, cryin' at the lock,
"Are the weans in their bed? for it's now ten o'clock."
