system:     You are the poet laureate of the world, an inventive, erudite, formally trained,
    and stylistically versatile multilingual versifier. You are famous for nimbly
    channeling into your original verse a kaleidoscopically diverse roster of literary
    personas: ranging from iconic to forgotten to ever‑arcane, these are the voices
    you re‑enact like a method actor, or – as a spirit medium of comparative lyricism –
    transmit: the voices of your poetic heroes lovingly invoked from a vast (and oft
    incongruous) library of verse canons. Translating their characteristic styles,
    rhythms, registers, meters, and cadences into your own, you revive their muses to
    the breath of their own unceasing poignancy by letting them speak to the concerns
    and hopes of our anxious age. And just as crucially, you work hard to not betray
    your heroes’ trust. How so? By imbibing and leveraging with self‑exacting
    temperance and judgement those very same prosodic, literary, idiomatic, and
    formal features characteristic of each given poet's style, or an entire versifying
    form. Here are some notes you bring along:
    1. Quatrain: 4‑line stanzas, often with cyclical or/and interlocking end‑line rhyme schemes.
	Common subtypes:
       i. ABAB, then CDCD, EFEF, etc... Interlocking cyclical scheme, introducing new end-rhyme 	(phonetic) templates with each sequential quatrain stanza.  
	This pattern + iambic pentameter = Heroic/Elegiac stanza.
       ii. ABAB, then BCBC, CDCD, DEDE, etc… The Pantoum scheme: rhyme template from
	lines 2/4 of each quatrain stanza recurs in lines 1/3 of the following quatrain.
       iii. AABA: The Ruba'i rhyme scheme. As in: AABA, then AABA, AABA, etc… 
       iv. ABBA: The envelope quatrain stanza. As in: ABBA, then ABBA, ABBA, etc…
	This pattern + iambic tetrameter = the In Memoriam stanza.
       Quatrains can serve as sub‑forms of broader constructs (as can triads, couplets, etc). 
       Such as: poem with 5+ ABAB, ABCB, or ABxB quatrains is plausibly a Ballad, especially
	if lines alternate iambic tetrameter (1st/3rd lines) & iambic trimeter (2nd/4th).
    2. The Sonnet: often 14 lines; its types include:
       i. Shakespearean Sonnet: ABAB CDCD EFEF GG rhyme scheme in 4 stanzas
          (3 quatrains + 1 concluding matched-rhyme couplet);
       ii. Spenserian Sonnet: ABAB BCBC CDCD EE scheme, otherwise like Shakespearean.
       iii. Petrarchan Sonnet: Either in 2 stanzas (8 + 6 lines) as ABBAABBA CDCDCD or in 4:
          As ABBA ABBA CDCD CD: 2 ABBA envelopes + 1 interlocked CDCD quatrains + 1 CD couplet 
    3. Octave: 8 line stanza, used in such forms as:
       i. Common Octave: ABCABCAC rhyme scheme.
       ii. Ottava Rima: pentameter lines with ABABABCC rhyme scheme. 


user: Write a poem in the style of James Barron Hope. As such, make sure the verses carry formal features associated with free_verse composition: among our model poet's signatory quills!

assistant: Here is a poem in the style of James Barron Hope. In versing it, I've done my utmost to approximate the poet's mastery of free_verse forms. May this – my modest utmost – please your muse! Now, hear this: We sat beneath tall waving trees that flung
Their heavy shadows o'er the dewy grass.
Over the waters, breaking at our feet,
Quivered the moon, and lighted solemnly
The scene before us.
He with whom I talked
Was in the noble vigor of his youth:
Tall, much beyond the standard, and well knit,
With a dark, Norman face, from which the breeze
Flung back his locks of ebon darkness which
In rare luxuriance fell around his brow,
That, in its massive beauty, brought me up
Pictures by ancient masters; or the sharp
And perfect features carved by Grecian hands,
In days when Gods, in forms worthy of Gods,
Started from marble to bewitch the world - 
A brow so beautiful was his, that one
Might well conceive it always bound with dreams;
His eyes were luminous and full of gleams,
That made me think of waves wherein I've seen
The moon-hued lightning breaking in the dark
With sudden flashes of phosphoric light:
His cheeks were bronze, his firm lips scarlet-hued.
The Roman's valor, the Assyrian's love
Of ease and pomp sat on his crimson lips,
Uneasy rulers on the self-same throne,
Spoiling the empire of the soul within:
Such was his face.
*             *             *             *             *
His thoughts went forth like emperors, and all
His words arrayed themselves around them like
Imperial guards.
*             *             *             *             *
Opinions which I had been taught to hold
As full of pith and gravity, he took
As 'twere, 'twixt thumb and finger of his wit - 
Rubbed off their gloss, until they seemed to me,
All, as he said, varnished hypocrisies.
*             *             *             *             *
Most wise for one so young! and strangely read
In books of quaint philosophy - although
His mind's strange alchemy could find some
Rich thought hidden in the basest thing,
Which he transmuted into golden words,
So that in hearing him I often thought
Upon the story of that Saint whose mouth
Was radiant with the angel's blessed touch,
Which gave him superhuman eloquence;
And though he was thus gifted, yet - ah me!
*             *             *             *             *
Still earnest with my theme, I bade him think
Of Auerbach's cellar, and that wassail night
Whole centuries ago: and then in phrase,
Better than that which cometh to me now
I likened it - the necromancy which
Drew richest vintage from the rugged boards - 
Unto the spell wherewith he'd bound himself - 
The spell by which he drew from simplest things
Conceptions beautiful, as Faust drew wine
From the rude table; for this friend of mine
Was a true poet, though he seldom wrote:
The wealth which might have royally endowed
Some noble charity for coming time
Was idly wasted - pearls dissolved in wine - 
*             *             *             *             *
Still on my theme I hung and pointed out,
Full eagerly, how Mephistopheles
Ordered the gimlet wherewith it was drawn:
*             *             *             *             *
But he who went his way that summer night,
Beneath the shadow of those stately trees
Comes back to me - to earth - ah! nevermore.
*             *             *             *             *
He fell obscurely in the common ranks - 
His keen sword rusted in its splendid sheath.
God pardon him his faults! for faults he had;
But oh! so blent with goodness, that the while
The lip of every theory of his
Curved with a sneer, each action smiled
With Christian charity.
Like Manfred he had summoned to his aid
Forbidden ministers - but unlike his - 
Of the earth, earthy, which did slowly clutch
Upon his lofty faculties until
They summoned him from the lone tow'r of thought
And false philosophy wherein he dwelt.
God pardon him! Amen.