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: #6B5E2A
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RGB: 107 94 42
HEX: #7A9D7D
RGB: 122 157 125
RGB: 122 157 125
HEX: #9B9B1F
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RGB: 155 155 31
HEX: #E6BF64
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RGB: 230 191 100
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RGB: 238 230 183
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.
