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: #383C3B
RGB: 56 60 59
RGB: 56 60 59
HEX: #A4A295
RGB: 164 162 149
RGB: 164 162 149
HEX: #192028
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RGB: 25 32 40
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RGB: 90 84 72
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RGB: 245 233 255
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.
