My wishes don't go far;
The world may wag at will,
So I have my cigar.
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A charge of snuff the wily virgin threw;
The gnomes direct, to every atom just,
The pungent grains of titillating dust,
Sudden, with starting tears each eye o'erflows,
And the high dome re-echoes to his nose.
HEX: #363F48
RGB: 54 63 72
RGB: 54 63 72
HEX: #F26E21
RGB: 242 110 33
RGB: 242 110 33
HEX: #FFD602
RGB: 255 214 2
RGB: 255 214 2
HEX: #2D839E
RGB: 45 131 158
RGB: 45 131 158
HEX: #65CCA9
RGB: 101 204 169
RGB: 101 204 169
White, delicate, dimpled, warm, languid, and bland.
The hand of a woman is often, in youth,
Somewhat rough, somewhat red, somewhat graceless in truth;
Does its beauty refine, as its pulses grow calm,
Or as sorrow has crossed the life line in the palm?
