Even thou who mournst the daisy's fate, that fate is thine. - Robert Burns

Dear Sir, I'll gie ye some advice,
You'll tak it no uncivil:
You shouldna paint at angels, man,
But try and paint the Devil.

To paint an angel's kittle wark,
Wi' Nick there's little danger;
You'll easy draw a lang-kent face,
But no sae weel a stranger.

Gathering her brows like gathering storm,
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

But pleasures are like poppies spread, you seize the flower, its bloom is shed