That in trim gardens takes his pleasure.
Thy one brief parting pang may show:
And withering thoughts for soul that dashes,
From deep to deep, are but a death more slow.
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Your impudence protects you sairly;
I canna say but ye strunt rarely
Owre gauze an' lace;
Though faith! I fear ye dine but sparely
On sic a place.
HEX: #4B453B
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RGB: 75 69 59
HEX: #FA9292
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RGB: 250 146 146
HEX: #F8B285
RGB: 248 178 133
RGB: 248 178 133
HEX: #B3C48E
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RGB: 179 196 142
HEX: #E0D67E
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RGB: 224 214 126
A swarm of young midges, they dance high and low;
'Tis a sweet little species that lives but one hour,
And the eldest was born half an hour ago.
