Its mother was weeping.
of the tree of poetry
that is eternity wearing
the green leaves of time.
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RGB: 64 40 38
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RGB: 187 90 73
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RGB: 103 41 26
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RGB: 246 154 131
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RGB: 243 218 187
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."
