A ROMANCE OF THE AGE. A Poet writes to his Friend. Place—A Room in Wycombe Hall. Time—Late in the evening. I. Dear my friend and fellow- student, I would lean my spirit o'er you! Down the purple of this chamber tears should scarcely run at will. I am humbled who was humble. Friend, I bow my head before you: You should lead me to my peasants, but their faces are too still. <lora:FluxMythV2:0. 6> <lora:ck- painterly- fantasy:0. 6> <lora:flux. 1_lora_flyway_Epic- detail_v2:0. 5> <lora:RetroAnimeFluxV1:0. 7> <lora:FluxTrissMV1:0. 8>
0
8
Safe
Private
