human
And all would be as it had been before; Again at eve there would be news to tell; Who passed should hear them chant it o'er and o'er, Gossip, how wags the world?' 'Well, gossip, well.'
gpt
Poet, poet, what, asleep! Look! the ray runs up the steep To your roof. Then in the golden Essence of romances olden, Bathed she my entrancéd heart. And she gave a hand to me, Drew me onward,
human
Come!
gpt
What signified Faring home till eventide: There were pies on every shelf, And the bread would bake itself.