human
Can you write a poem for me in the style of Algernon Charles Swinburne?
assistant
Sure, here's a poem in the style of Algernon Charles Swinburne:
  _Why do the bells of Christmas ring?
Why do little children sing?
Once a lovely shining star,
Seen by shepherds from afar,
Gently moved until its light
Made a manger's cradle bright.
There a darling baby lay,
Pillowed soft upon the hay;
And its mother sung and smiled:
"This is Christ, the holy Child!"
Therefore bells for Christmas ring,
Therefore little children sing._
Joel's Talk with Santa Claus
The angels came through the forest to where the little tree
stood, and gathering around it, they touched it with
For he was so generous that he gave away all these pretty
things as fast as he made them
So Barbara fell asleep
"But why shouldn't I be merry?" asked the little mauve
mouse. "To-morrow is Christmas, and this is Christmas
"'What sound was that?' cried Dimas, for he was exceeding
fearful"
The strange allegory of the lame boy's speech filled her with
But, with her babe upon her knee,
Naught recked that Mother of the tree
To seek that manger out and lay
Our gifts before the child--
To bring our hearts and offer them
Sing, O my heart!
Sing thou in rapture this dear morn
Whereon the blessed Prince is born!
Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul,
And close thine eyes in dreaming
"This must be the house where the prince will stop,"
thought Barbara
Share thou this holy time with me,
The universal hymn of love
"Nestle down close, fold your hands, and shut your dear
"They are killing me!" cried the tree
Sing, O my heart!
Sing thou in rapture this dear morn
Whereon the blessed Prince is born!
Sing, Christmas bells!
Say to the earth this is the morn
Whereon our Savior-King is born;
Sing to all men,--the bond, the free,
The rich, the poor, the high, the low,
The little child that sports in glee,
The aged folk that tottering go,--
Proclaim the morn
That Christ is born,
That saveth them and saveth me!
Sing, angel host!
Sing of the star that God has placed
Above the manger in the East;
Sing of the glories of the night,
The virgin's sweet humility,
The Babe with kingly robes bedight,--
Sing to all men where'er they be
This Christmas morn;
For Christ is born,
That saveth them and saveth me!
Sing, sons of earth!
O ransomed seed of Adam, sing!
God liveth, and we have a king!
The curse is gone, the bond are free--
By Bethlehem's star that brightly beamed,
By all the heavenly signs that be,
We know that Israel is redeemed;
That on this morn
The Christ is born
That saveth you and saveth me!
Sing, O my heart!
Sing thou in rapture this dear morn
Whereon the blessed Prince is born!
And as thy songs shall be of love,
So let my deeds be charity
By the dear Lord that reigns above,
By Him that died upon the tree,
By this fair morn
Whereon is born
The Christ that saveth all and me!
"Where are you going?" asked his neighbor Jans, the forge-master.
"I am going sailing for a wife," said Norss.
"For a wife, indeed!" cried Jans. "And why go you to seek her in
"If this be so, you must need go," said Jans. "But are you well
similitude of a cross.
As if guided by an unseen hand, the boat pointed straight for the
immediately recognize.
"Yes," said Norss.
"And thou art Norss?" she asked.
"I am Norss; and I come seeking my bride," he answered.
to-day, and Norss shall come out of the North to bear thee home a
trees, cats, and birds, all of wood and very like to nature. His
mother taught him how to make dolls too,--dolls of every kind,
So Claus grew to manhood, increasing each day in knowledge and in
everywhere the beauteous things which his fancy conceived and his
"Ay, ay," said Norss; "but how is that possible?"
"We shall see," said Faia.
That night Norss dreamed that a spirit came to him, and that the
"But what of the symbol?" cried Norss.
"I have it here, about my neck," said Faia.
faith.
glorious warmth suffuse him, his heart leaped with joy, and he
stretched out his arms and fell about Faia's neck, and kissed the
No sooner had he said these words than Claus felt the gift of
And lo! to that place and in that hour came all the people of
"Now haste ye all," cried Claus,--"haste ye all to your homes and
The kobolds and the brownies laughed gleefully, and sped away on
noiseless wings; and so, too, did the other fairies and elves.
Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul,
The evening shades are falling,--
Hush thee, my dear, dost thou not hear
The voice of the Master calling?
Deep lies the snow upon the earth,
But all the sky is ringing
With joyous song, and all night long
The stars shall dance, with singing.
Oh, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul,
And close thine eyes in dreaming,
And angels fair shall lead thee where
The singing stars are beaming.
A shepherd calls his little lambs,
And he longeth to caress them;
He bids them rest upon his breast,
That his tender love may bless them.
So, hush thee, little Dear-my-Soul,
Whilst evening shades are falling,
And above the song of the heavenly throng
Thou shalt hear the Master calling.
One Christmas eve Joel Baker was in a most unhappy mood. He was
lonesome and miserable; the chimes making merry Christmas music
outside disturbed rather than soothed him, the jingle of the
time--no, not what it used to be."
little boy, he had never forgotten how Santa Claus looked.
Santa Claus shook his head reproachfully.
"But Otis couldn't keep awake," explained Joel. "We talked about
sleigh-runners cuttin' through the crust and slippin' over the
"There were six of 'em, as I recollect?" said Santa Claus.
Garland of Frien'ship,' and had poems in it about the bleeding of
Chris'mas mornin' when they've got new sleds an' 'Garlands of
Santa Claus chuckled; his rosy cheeks fairly beamed joy.
"I brought Martin a sled the _next_ Christmas," said Santa Claus.
scattered 'em."
The bare thought of this made Santa Claus laugh.
"Goin' on about nine o'clock," said Joel, "the girls come
along--Sister Elvira an' Thankful, Prudence Tucker, Belle Yocum,
"I know--I see it all," murmured Santa Claus very softly.
"Yes," said Santa Claus, "a toddling little boy with blue eyes--"
"But when I came again," said Santa Claus--
"His little bed was empty, an' I was alone. It killed his
buryin'-ground these thirty years.
"That's why I'm so sad-like whenever Chris'mas comes," said Joel,
How sweetly Joel slept! When he awoke, the sunlight streamed in
through the window and seemed to bid him a merry Christmas. How
Carol of the Christmas morn--
Carol of the Christ-child born--
Carol to the list'ning sky
Till it echoes back again
"Glory be to God on high,
Peace on earth, good will tow'rd men!"
From out Cologne there came three kings
To worship Jesus Christ, their King.
To Him they sought fine herbs they brought,
And many a beauteous golden thing;
They brought their gifts to Bethlehem town,
And in that manger set them down.
Then spake the first king, and he said:
"O Child, most heavenly, bright, and fair!
I bring this crown to Bethlehem town
For Thee, and only Thee, to wear;
So give a heavenly crown to me
When I shall come at last to Thee!"
The second, then. "I bring Thee here
This royal robe, O Child!" he cried;
"Of silk 'tis spun, and such an one
There is not in the world beside;
So in the day of doom requite
Me with a heavenly robe of white!"
The third king gave his gift, and quoth:
"Spikenard and myrrh to Thee I bring,
And with these twain would I most fain
Anoint the body of my King;
So may their incense sometime rise
To plead for me in yonder skies!"
Thus spake the three kings of Cologne,
That gave their gifts, and went their way;
And now kneel I in prayer hard by
The cradle of the Child to-day;
Nor crown, nor robe, nor spice I bring
As offering unto Christ, my King.
Yet have I brought a gift the Child
May not despise, however small;
For here I lay my heart to-day,
And it is full of love to all.
Take Thou the poor but loyal thing,
My only tribute, Christ, my King!
"I have no home," said Barbara; and then she sighed bitterly, and
struggling along with a huge basket of good things on each arm.
"What are they doing at the cathedral?" inquired Barbara.
"Why, haven't you heard?" exclaimed the snowflake. "I supposed
everybody knew that the prince was coming to-morrow."
snowflake.
"Whirr-r-r! whirr-r-r!" cried the wind, returning boisterously to
creature's heart.
Presently she came to a large house where there seemed to be much
"Where are you going?" she asked of the wind as it overtook her.
Perhaps I shall see him if I go there."
cathedral at the time, and they laughed to see her falling.
"Have you seen the prince?" inquired a snowflake, alighting on
boisterous search.
"Ah, no!" sighed Barbara in tears; "but what cares the prince for
"Do not speak so bitterly," said the little snowflake. "Go to the
"Whirr-r-r, whirr-r-r!" It was the mischievous, romping wind once
"I am Barbara, and I am going into the forest," said she boldly.
"But the prince will surely come to-morrow?" inquired the tiny
snowdrop that nestled close to the vine.
"What are you little folks down there talking about?" asked the
pine-tree.
"We are talking about the prince," said the vine.
The pine-tree and the fir stopped quarrelling, and the snowdrop
"Will you not chop me down?" inquired the pine-tree gruffly.
"Will you not tear me from my tree?" asked the vine.
"Will you not pluck my blossoms?" plaintively piped the snowdrop.
Then Barbara told them who she was, and how cruelly she had been
"Lie at my feet," said the pine-tree, "and I will protect you."
prince and his coming."
"But we shall see him first," whispered the vine reassuringly.
"Yes, the prince will come through the forest," said the little
snowdrop gleefully.
And they said they would. So Barbara fell asleep.
The storm had ceased. Snow lay upon all the earth. The hills, the
charity to all mankind!_
God rest you, Chrysten gentil men,
Wherever you may be,--
God rest you all in fielde or hall,
Or on ye stormy sea;
For on this morn oure Chryst is born
That saveth you and me.
Last night ye shepherds in ye east
Saw many a wondrous thing;
Ye sky last night flamed passing bright
Whiles that ye stars did sing,
And angels came to bless ye name
Of Jesus Chryst, oure Kyng.
God rest you, Chrysten gentil men,
Faring where'er you may;
In noblesse court do thou no sport,
In tournament no playe,
In paynim lands hold thou thy hands
From bloudy works this daye.
But thinking on ye gentil Lord
That died upon ye tree,
Let troublings cease and deeds of peace
For on this morn ye Chryst is born
That saveth you and me.
Whilst you were sleeping, little Dear-my-Soul, strange things
"But why shouldn't I be merry?" asked the little mauve mouse.
"To-morrow is Christmas, and this is Christmas eve."
gnawed any holes, nor have I stolen any canary seed, nor have I
butter-cracker last Christmas, and a lovely gingersnap, and a
"Yes," said the old clock, "now that you recall the incident, I
recollect it well. I was here then, in this very corner, and I
"Why, Santa Claus himself," said the old clock.
"Oh, no," answered the little mauve mouse. "It was that wicked,
"Yes, I understand," said the old clock.
"Like the boy doll," suggested the old clock.
"No, no!" cried the little mauve mouse.
"Like Dear-my-Soul?" asked the old clock.
"How stupid you are!" exclaimed the little mauve mouse. "Why, she
"Right merrily was Squeaknibble gambolling," continued the little
country as it is wont to be in countries to the north. Hither the
"'What are these wonderful things of which you speak?' I asked.
"'We heard the old olive-tree telling of them to-night,' said the
"'But who is this Master?' I asked.
"I marvelled much to hear these things. 'The midnight hour is at
Master comes.'
exceeding fearful."]
thither like colored lanterns. The flowers of the hill-side all
"'Greater joy than this shall be thine, Dimas,' said the little
Master; 'but first must all things be fulfilled.'
"All through that Christmas night did the angels come and go with
"Well, is that all?" asked the old clock.
"Then I saw that it was Dimas; yet to this wicked criminal there
"Then Dimas wept, and in that hour he forgot his pain. And the
Ah, little Dear-my-Soul, you know--you know whereof the moonbeam
bells,--hear them, little Dear-my-Soul, how sweetly they are
ringing,--the bells bear us the good tidings of great joy this
Christmas morning, that our Christ is born, and that with him he
bringeth peace on earth and good-will toward men.
The angel host that sped last night,
Bearing the wondrous news afar,
Came in their ever-glorious flight
Unto a slumbering little star.
"Awake and sing, O star!" they cried.
"Awake and glorify the morn!
Herald the tidings far and wide--
He that shall lead His flock is born!"
The little star awoke and sung
As only stars in rapture may,
And presently where church bells hung
The joyous tidings found their way.
Share thou this holy time with me,
The universal hymn of love.
"Awake, O bells! 't is Christmas morn--
Awake and let thy music tell
To all mankind that now is born
What Shepherd loves His lambkins well!"
Then rang the bells as fled the night
O'er dreaming land and drowsing deep,
And coming with the morning light,
They called, my child, to you asleep.
Sweetly and tenderly they spoke,
And lingering round your little bed,
Their music pleaded till you woke,
And this is what their music said:
"Awake and sing! 'tis Christmas morn,
Whereon all earth salutes her King!
In Bethlehem is the Shepherd born.
Awake, O little lamb, and sing!"
So, dear my child, kneel at my feet,
And with those voices from above
Share thou this holy time with me,
The universal hymn of love.
You shall know that all did call her Mistress Merciless; but her
ill-favored wench; but she was assotted upon our little Mistress
Merciless and served her diligently, and for that good reason was
flowers; and even had he done so, methinks the pressure of those
whilst thus those twittering birds made great feasting, lo! on a
devoured of the envious water; so that ever thereafter the doll
inquiry; and I think she was lonely ever after that,--lonely for
I am thinking now of her and of him; for this is the Christmas
hearth-stone.
When of an evening all the joy of day was done, would our little
Mistress Merciless fall aweary; and then her eyelids would grow
The locomotive is ready to start. Can you not hear it?
"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!" That is what the locomotive is
"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!"
Oh, many a time hath it proudly swept over prairie and hill, over
"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!"
Then a bell soundeth. Surely my little one heareth the bell!
So soundeth the bell, and it seemeth to invite you to sleep and
dreams.
How sweetly ringeth and calleth that bell.
"All aboard!"
And so my little golden apple is off and away for Shut-Eye Town!
"Shug-chug! Shug-chug! Shug-chug!"
On and on and on the locomotive proudly whirleth the train.
Then was I wont to kneel beside her little bed and fold my two
hands,--thus,--and let my heart call to the host invisible: "O
As I was going to Bethlehem-town,
Upon the earth I cast me down
All underneath a little tree
That whispered in this wise to me:
"Oh, I shall stand on Calvary
And bear what burthen saveth thee!"
As up I fared to Bethlehem-town,
I met a shepherd coming down,
And thus he quoth: "A wondrous sight
Hath spread before mine eyes this night,--
An angel host most fair to see,
That sung full sweetly of a tree
That shall uplift on Calvary
What burthen saveth you and me!"
And as I gat to Bethlehem-town,
Lo! wise men came that bore a crown.
"Is there," cried I, "in Bethlehem
A King shall wear this diadem?"
"Good sooth," they quoth, "and it is He
That shall be lifted on the tree
And freely shed on Calvary
What blood redeemeth us and thee!"
Unto a Child in Bethlehem-town
The wise men came and brought the crown;
And while the infant smiling slept,
Upon their knees they fell and wept;
But, with her babe upon her knee,
Naught recked that Mother of the tree,
That should uplift on Calvary
What burthen saveth all and me.
Again I walk in Bethlehem-town
And think on Him that wears the crown.
I may not kiss His feet again,
Nor worship Him as did I then;
My King hath died upon the tree,
And hath outpoured on Calvary
What blood redeemeth you and me!
But, with her babe upon her knee,
Naught recked that Mother of the tree.
predicted strange things. They had lived in the forest many, many
exceeding honor should be shown the little tree.
little tree, but the pride and glory of the forest.
"Have no fear," said the angel; "for He who comes is the Master."
appeared, uttering loud oaths and cruel threats, and the tree was
Then the cruel men dragged the despoiled and hewn tree from the
forest, and the forest saw that beauteous thing no more.
Star of the East, that long ago
Brought wise men on their way
Where, angels singing to and fro,
The Child of Bethlehem lay--
Above that Syrian hill afar
Thou shinest out to-night, O Star!
To seek that manger out and lay
Our gifts before the child--
To bring our hearts and offer them
Star of the East, the night were drear
But for the tender grace
That with thy glory comes to cheer
Earth's loneliest, darkest place;
For by that charity we see
Where there is hope for all and me.
Star of the East! show us the way
In wisdom undefiled
To seek that manger out and lay
Our gifts before the child--
To bring our hearts and offer them