By George Gordon Byron
So, we'll go no more a roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.
For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.
Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a roving
By the light of the moon.
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My Friday started out sort of boring -- I was writing a review of Deep Space Nine's "Once More Unto the Breach", a too-ponderous Klingon episode that holds my interest best during a near-throwaway scene between Kira and Ezri -- then Daniel texted me about his travel plans for out-of-state interviews and ended up deciding to come home for the weekend. So in the afternoon, Paul and I picked him up in College Park.
We took son to get his hair cut and bumped into my father in CVS next door (son recognized his license plate), then went to my parents' for dinner so Daniel could fill them in on his GRE and job plans. Afterward we caught up on two weeks' worth of missed Doctor Who, both of which I liked for a change (Red Riding Hood twist more fun than recent Once Upon a Time). Animals from the Countryside Artisans tour's Something Earthy:
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