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: #1A1919
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RGB: 26 25 25
HEX: #363333
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RGB: 54 51 51
HEX: #E0A93A
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RGB: 224 169 58
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RGB: 186 184 65
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RGB: 224 222 58
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.
