human
Which speaks the truth--fair Hope or ghastly Fear? God knoweth, and not I. Only, o'er both, Love holds her torch aloft, And will, until I die.
gpt
Fiddle-de-dee! Do give over snuffing and snivelling and sobbing, and tell me if you want your warm petticoat in the saddle-bag. You'd make a saint for to swear!