Guest 1977
Virgin
- Joined
- Mar 10, 2001
- Posts
- 27
Earthgoddess said:Good Sir, you must be a bard for truly your words flow gently upon mine ears like the soft songs of the forest as the trees caress the sky with their longing branches. A simple man would find not such riches to heap at my unworthy feet, for mine is not a soul such as your gilded image. Nay, prithee see me for the base and plain creature that I am. Waste not gentle Sir your thoughts on one so wanton and bawdy-you turn the metals within my very soul to most molten, maleable-perhaps not a bard but a smithy be thou. Shape and ply me with your words until you have created a new metal-far superior to the former. Your flattery is gilt laid over rough wood, your thoughts are far more pure and courtly than this wench doth deserve. Fit to serve thee a flask of mead-that is all, no gracious lady I.
Thou dost value thyself too lowly and me too highly milady. For true nobility is not a state of birth, but a state of character, and with all thy gentle cares and softly spoken words of advice to heal the broken hearts and befuddled minds upon this board thou has shown to be of the noblest sort indeed.
To borrow the words of a true bard:
Not all that shimmers is gold
Not all who wander are lost.
That which is strong shall not fade once old.
Biting frost shall not penetrate to the roots so deep.
From the ashes a new fire shall emerge.
From the shadows will arise an image of light.
Renewed shall be the sword, the crippled
The crownless one shall become the king once more.
Appearances may deceive, but character dost not. Thus thy thoughts upon thine own supposed lack of worthiness are false indeed. For more than a mere serving wench thou art, while thy noble heart makes the queens of the greatest nations of old and new turn into the beasts with the eyes of green.