human
Can you write me a poem about angel, lucy and miss in the style of Horace Walpole?
assistant
Sure, here's a poem about angel, lucy and miss in the style of Horace Walpole:
  How Willy meets the young gleaner in the field--how he pities his
How the young gleaner was much frightened, and how happy he was
The young musician had a little chamber in the monastery, which
Mother, I'm tired, and I would fain be sleeping;
Let me repose upon thy bosom sick;
But promise me that thou wilt leave off weeping,
Because thy tears fall hot upon my cheek.
Here it is cold: the tempest raveth madly;
But in my dreams all is so wondrous bright;
I see the angel-children smiling gladly,
When from my weary eyes I shut out light.
Mother, one stands beside me now! and, listen!
Dost thou not hear the music's sweet accord?
See how his white wings beautifully glisten?
Surely those wings were given him by the Lord!
Green, gold, and red, are floating all around me;
They are the flowers the angel scattereth.
Should I have also wings while life has bound me?
Or, mother, are they given alone in death?
Why dost thou clasp me as if I were going?
Why dost thou press thy cheek so unto mine?
Thy cheek is hot, and yet thy tears are flowing!
I will, dear mother, will be always thine!
Do not sigh thus--it marreth my reposing;
But if thou weep, then I must weep with thee!
Ah, I am tired--my weary eyes are closing--
Look, mother, look! the angel kisseth me!
One morning Miss Lucy,
As oft-times before,
Went out in the fields
With maid Ellenore:
The sun shone so bright,
And the air was so still;
Not a breath could be raised
To turn the old mill.
They walked through the fields
All sprinkled with dew,
Where the bright yellow flowers
Gave a charm to the view;
The birds sang so gayly
To bless the bright day,
And sweetly the baby
Talked and laughed by the way.
Now Lucy knew well
There was naught to alarm--
Old Brindle was gentle,
And would do her no harm.
But the cow raised her head
And looked round so bold,
That she started and shrieked,
And made Ellenore scold.
Then the man at the mill
Rushed out in a fright,
And seeing Miss Lucy
All trembling and white,
Said, "Have courage, young lady!
Pray cease your alarm;
Cows never will hurt you,
If you do them no harm."
Now the baby he prattled,
And begged for a ride;
He clapped his hands loudly,
And "Come, Mooly!" he cried;
"Let me ride on your back
O'er the green fields so bright,
Where the busy bees hum--
_Dear Mooly_, you _might_.
"We'll ride o'er the hills
Where the lofty pines grow,
And through the green lanes
Of hawthorn we'll go;
"We'll ride through the groves
Where the happy birds play,
And sing a glad song
Of praise by the way."
"Here, give me that little girl, I will adopt her!"
Everybody looked at her feet; and when she stepped through the
At the church-door stood an old soldier with a crutch, and with a
"Look, what beautiful dancing-shoes!"
church-door, she saw an angel standing there. He wore long white
And away she went boldly; but she had not got farther than the
The congregation sat on cushioned seats, and sang out of their
"It was through mercy!" she said.
Hans Christian Andersen is an excellent allegorist, and has very
I thought to find my little girl,
When I came home at night,
With brow unruffled as her curl,
And smiles of love as bright.
I thought she'd jump upon my knee,
And tell me all she'd done,
In reading, study, work, or play,
From morn till set of sun.
Is this my Marian? No, indeed!
Not such a frown had she!
When my own little girl comes back,
Just send her in to me!
The buds and the blossoms,
How bright to the view!
They sparkle with dew.
The sun's rising beams
Have kissed each bright flower:
How lovely the scene!
How peaceful the hour!
All nature awakens
From a night of soft sleep,
And the insects once more
From their hiding-holes creep.
The old birds have flown
Far away to get food,
While anxiously wait,
Their young trembling brood.
To our Father in heaven
Our voices we'll raise,
With feelings most fervent,
In songs to his praise.
Dear Saviour, to love thee
Our hearts are inclined,
Oh, teach us, we pray thee,
Thy precepts to mind.
Upon our heart-garden,
Oh, let thy love rain,
Like fresh summer showers
Upon the young grain.
Like soft, gentle dew
Upon the dry earth,
Which opens the old buds,
And to new ones gives birth.
Oh, teach us to offer
Good deeds in thy praise,
And acts of true charity
Be the hymns that we raise.
From all that will harm us,
Or sorrow will bring,
Oh, keep us, dear Lord,
Beneath thy bright wing.
mannered.
"What troubles you, dear? Are you thinking of the unfortunate
Pretty bird! pretty bird!
Singing so sweet;
Art wishing for freedom--
Bird-friends to meet?
Dost thou guess what it is--
Living in trees?
And to sleep in a nest
Rocked by the breeze?
Thou wert born in a cage,
My own dear bird!
But, I fancy, new longings
Thy heart have stirred.
Or perhaps to the garden
Some bird has flown,
And taught thee of freedom,
Before unknown.
If I open thy cage
And bid thee to fly,
Wilt thou ever come back,
To gladden mine eye?
Shall I hear thy sweet song,
Morning and eve?
Or wilt thou forever
Thy mistress leave?
Well, dear little bird!
I'll open thy door:
Fly forth to the woods;
I'll cage thee no more.
But when winter months come,
With storm-winds that blow,
Come back; I will shelter thee
From the storm and snow.
"Do your feet hurt you much, poor boy?" asked Willy, in a very
sympathizing tone.
The child was terrified, and replied, "Indeed, indeed, I have not
My master says this is done well,
How glad, how proud am I!
For I shall see a joyful smile
In mother's dear kind eye.
She'll lay her hand upon my head,
And kiss my forehead too,
And whisper softly in my ear,
"Did I not tell you true?"
For when I said, "Oh _dear_, I can't!"
And breathed a heavy sigh,
My mother said, "Nay, do not fear;
Come, let me see you try.
"For if you will I'm very sure
It will not be in vain;
You know a hard task _really_ learnt
Is more than double gain."
I've learned it all, and written it
Without the least mistake,
And mother said, "I am right glad
To see the pains you take."
I did not know how pleasant 'twas
To study hard before;
But now, I'm very sure, I'll ask
For easy tasks no more.
standing still.
received payment, he delivered the key to him with these words--
neighbors' children.
The voice answered "We will not do thy grass any harm; we and our
They then vanished like a thin vapor.
towards his little neighbors; advised him to burn his hay, and to
"I will not give you one atom."
thousand-fold."
"Wait a minute, and give me your bag."
distress, and want help, come to the oak spring."
He nodded his head, and Tony saw him take the steep path up the
mountains.
"And does the brown man send me this as a present?" said the
happiness to all.