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: #52404C
RGB: 82 64 76
RGB: 82 64 76
HEX: #B1946C
RGB: 177 148 108
RGB: 177 148 108
HEX: #B9A254
RGB: 185 162 84
RGB: 185 162 84
HEX: #929E88
RGB: 146 158 136
RGB: 146 158 136
HEX: #A3B6BA
RGB: 163 182 186
RGB: 163 182 186
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.
