When down her weedy trophies and herself
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide;
And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up:
Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes;
As one incapable of her own distress,
Or like a creature native and indued
Unto that element: but long it could not be
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay
To muddy death.
If you’ve ever seen an _NFP who really likes someone, their entire face literally lights up when they talk to them or even see them. The “lighting up” is concentrated in the eyes, so—I don’t know. It’s almost like a lantern is lit inside of them, and they truly can’t help it. :) It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.