human
Can you write a poem for me in the style of Louis Becke?
assistant
Sure, here's a poem in the style of Louis Becke:
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Saint Nicholas brings presents
For little girls and boys;
Saint Nicholas brings dozens
Of all the nicest toys.
Hang out your biggest stocking
Before you go to sleep;
But if you hear him coming,
You mustn't even peep.
The Sea-side Doll.
There's one doll for winter,
When ice comes and snow;
Another for spring time,
When primroses grow.
A dolly for dark nights,
To take into bed;
And one for the morning,
Till lessons are said.
But this is the dolly
To play on the sands,
You see both a pail and
Sing a song of Ping-pong,
Fast away he ran:
"Come along," said Ping-pong,
"Catch me if you can!"
Sing a song of Ping-pong,
Racquet and a ball:
"Come along," said Ping-pong,
"You can't run at all!"
Here's Uncle Jujuba,
Who has a sweet tooth;
He used to eat sugar-
Cane oft in his youth,
Where sugar-cane grows,
From which they make sugar,
As everyone knows.
His dressing-gown's blue, and
His girdle is red;
He wears a black cap
On top of his head.
He carries a candle
To give you a light,
In case you should ever
Get up in the night.
There is a queer dolly named Punch,
Who has a remarkable hunch.
The tip of his nose
Is red as a rose,
And that's how you know Mister Punch.
Looks to the sheep;
Watches their sleep.
When they cry "Baa,"
Knows where they are.
There was a bold cowboy
Came out of the west;
Of all the bold riders,
This cowboy's the best.
The horse he brought with him
Will not run away;
But stands by the side of
His master all day.
This is the long and
The short of it too:
One dolly stood still,
The other one grew.
She who is little
Prefers to be tall;
Blackman the giant
Would like to be small.
If one were not blue,
While the other is red,
You'd fancy that Su-
San was Mary instead.
If one were not red,
While the other is blue,
'Twould surely be said,
Right about, left about,
Halt and stand at ease!
Shoulder arms, attention,
Steady, if you please.
Order arms, present arms,
Forward, by your right!
Double, double, double,
Double to the fight!
When little dolls in Nurs'ry Street,
Do anything that's wrong;
Throw stones, or knock each other down,
Policeman comes along.
"Move on, move on," Policeman cries;
Be sure they never fail;
For if they did not move at once,
He'd take them off to jail.
Mollie's frock is crimson,
Her petticoat's of lace;
Mollie's hair is golden,
And curls about her face.
Mollie's friends are many,
She's off to visit one;
Mollie takes her sunshade,
To keep away the sun.
Swing down!
Here goes the clown.
Swing left!
Swing right!
Mind you hold tight.
Swing low!
Swing high!
Right to the sky.
Dolly's home's far away,
Far away in Algiers,
On the African coast,
She won't see it for years.
But she whispers at night,
And her eyes fill with tears;
"How I wish--how I wish,
I were back in Algiers!"
Some dolls are ev'ry bit as good
As little girls and boys;
They never pout or shake themselves,
And never make a noise.
But other dollies make mistakes;
Won't do as they are told;
Won't stand upright, or shut their eyes,
However much you scold!
And then's the time for old Dame Crump
To enter with her stick,
And make them mind their p's and q's;
'Tis well if they are quick!
Whom often you meet,
Riding or walking
See the red feather
He wears in his hat,
Always you know he's
Prince Charming by that.
He's always standing on his toes,
And never on his heels;
He's always holding up his arms--
I wonder how it feels.
Two balls are always in his hands,
He never lets them drop;
He's always smiling just like this,
And never seems to stop.
Dinah's cheeks are black as coal;
Dinah's lips are red;
Dinah's eyes are bright, although
Dinah's off to bed.
Dinah's bows are green and blue;
Dinah's teeth are white;
Dinah's bottle's meant to feed
Dinah in the night.
He smiles throughout the morning,
And all the afternoon;
He smiles whene'er the sun shines,
And also at the moon.
He smiles upon the carpet,
Or when you pick him up;
He smiles all through his dinner,
And when he goes to sup.
There was a grand coachman,
Who drove the Lord Mayor;
And never drove less than
A carriage and pair.
He wore a red waistcoat,
He carried a whip,
And when the boys saw him,
They shouted "Hip! hip!"
Has beautiful eyes,
Also the brightest
Of scarlet neckties.
Will never go out;
Being so lazy,
He's grown very stout.
There is a brown dolly
Who has a guitar;
She plays on it always,
Tra lal, tra lal la!
She has a new ditty
For every day;
I wish you could hear it,
Tra lal, tra lal lay!
You may call him an imp,
Or a gnome or a sprite;
And whate'er you call him
You are sure to be right.
He is here, he is there,
He will never stay long;
If you think he is caught,
You are sure to be wrong.