'As we to the brutes, poets are to us.' He listened somewhat with the head of the hanged.

A beautiful woman choosing to rhapsodize has her way, and is not subjected to the critical commentary within us.

He wondered whether she had discoursed in such a fashion to his uncle.
'I can read good poetry,' said he.
'If you would have this valley--or mountain-cleft, one should call it--described, only verse could do it for you,' Diana pursued, and stopped, glanced at his face, and smiled.

She had spied the end of a towel peeping out of one of his pockets.

'You came out for a bath! Go back, by all means, and mount that rise of grass where you first saw me; and down on the other side, a little to the right, you will find the very place for a bath, at a corner of the rock--a natural fountain; a bubbling pool in a ring of brushwood, with falling water, so tempting that I could have pardoned a push: about five feet deep.