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: #413C36
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RGB: 65 60 54
HEX: #8D7D1B
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RGB: 141 125 27
HEX: #D8171A
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RGB: 216 23 26
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RGB: 131 184 140
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RGB: 145 232 224
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.
