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: #181713
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RGB: 24 23 19
HEX: #CB6E33
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RGB: 203 110 51
HEX: #DA4332
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RGB: 218 67 50
HEX: #8CBFB6
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RGB: 140 191 182
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RGB: 229 213 135
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.
