He’d asked to hear it, but as she had trailed off in his, so he had left her on a cliffhanger (apropos to the poem, admittedly), and she was left to discern what she liked from his smile, and his words. In spite of herself, Porphyria grinned back.
“Thank you,” she returned, for his good nature and his lack of judgement and the boat he’d helped glide out of the lake. Poetry still on her mind, she had, as she bid him goodbye with a last smile, the uncanny sensation she’d just met the soul of Byron’s Childe Harold. A line or two floated back to her: ... So deemed the Childe, as o'er the mountains he / Did take his way in solitary guise: / Sweet was the scene, yet soon he thought to flee, / More restless than the swallow in the skies... Now why hadn’t she written that?!
“Thank you,” she returned, for his good nature and his lack of judgement and the boat he’d helped glide out of the lake. Poetry still on her mind, she had, as she bid him goodbye with a last smile, the uncanny sensation she’d just met the soul of Byron’s Childe Harold. A line or two floated back to her: ... So deemed the Childe, as o'er the mountains he / Did take his way in solitary guise: / Sweet was the scene, yet soon he thought to flee, / More restless than the swallow in the skies... Now why hadn’t she written that?!
a sublime set by Lady! <3