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 Hanford Lennox Gordon. 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 Hanford Lennox Gordon. 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: To bid the brave White Chief adieu,
on the shady shore gathered the warriors;
His glad boatmen manned the canoe,
and the oars in their hands were impatient.
Spake the Chief of Is'ntees:
"A feast will await the return of my brother.
In peace rose the sun in the East,
in peace in the West he descended.
May the feet of my brother be swift
till they bring him again to our teepees,
The red pipe he takes as a gift,
may he smoke that red pipe many winters.
At my lodge-fire his pipe shall be lit,
when the White Chief returns to Kath'ga;
On the robes of my tee shall he sit;
he shall smoke with the chiefs of my people.
The brave love the brave, and his son
sends the Chief as a guide for his brother,
By the way of the W'kpa Wak'n[AR]
to the Chief at the Lake of the Spirits.
As light as the foot-steps of dawn
are the feet of the stealthy Tamd'ka;
He fears not the M'za Wak'n;[AS]
he is sly as the fox of the forest.
When he dances the dance of red war
howl the wolves by the broad Mini-ya-ta,[AT]
For they scent on the south-wind afar
their feast on the bones of Ojibways."
Thrice the Chief puffed the red pipe of peace,
ere it passed to the lips of the Frenchman.
Spake DuLuth: "May the Great Spirit bless
with abundance the Chief and his people;
May their sons and their daughters increase,
and the fire ever burn in their teepees."
Then he waved with a flag his adieu
to the Chief and the warriors assembled;
And away shot Tamd'ka's canoe
to the strokes of ten sinewy hunters;
And a white path he clove up the blue,
bubbling stream of the swift Mississippi;
And away on his foaming trail flew,
like a sea-gull, the bark of the Frenchman.
*        *        *        *        *
AH, LITTLE HE DREAMED THEN, FORSOOTH, THAT A CITY WOULD STAND ON THAT HILL SIDE
Then merrily rose the blithe song
of the voyageurs homeward returning,
And thus, as they glided along,
sang the bugle-voiced boatmen in chorus:
SONG.
Home again! home again! bend to the oar!
Merry is the life of the gay voyageur.
He rides on the river with his paddle in his hand,
And his boat is his shelter on the water and the land.
The clam has his shell and the water-turtle too,
But the brave boatman's shell is his birch-bark canoe.
So pull away, boatmen; bend to the oar;
Merry is the life of the gay voyageur.
Home again! home again! bend to the oar!
Merry is the life of the gay voyageur,
His couch is as downy as a couch can be,
For he sleeps on the feathers of the green fir-tree.
He dines on the fat of the pemmican-sack,
And his eau de vie is the eau de lac.
So pull away, boatmen; bend to the oar;
Merry is the life of the gay voyageur.
Home again! home again! bend to the oar!
Merry is the life of the gay voyageur.
The brave, jolly boatman, he never is afraid
When he meets at the portage a red, forest maid,
A Huron, or a Cree, or a blooming Chippeway;
And he marks his trail with the bois brul's[AU]
So pull away, boatmen; bend to the oar;
Merry is the life of the gay voyageur.
Home again! home again! bend to the oar!
Merry is the life of the gay voyageur.
In the reeds of the meadow the stag
lifts his branchy head stately and listens,
And the bobolink, perched on the flag,
her ear sidelong bends to the chorus.
From the brow of the Beautiful Isle,[AV]
half hid in the midst of the maples,
The sad-faced Winona, the while,
watched the boat growing less in the distance,
Till away in the bend of the stream,
where it turned and was lost in the lindens,
She saw the last dip and the gleam
of the oars ere they vanished forever.
Still afar on the waters the song,
like bridal bells distantly chiming,
The stout, jolly boatmen prolong,
beating time with the stroke of their paddles;
And Winona's ear, turned to the breeze,
lists the air falling fainter and fainter,
Till it dies like the murmur of bees
when the sun is aslant on the meadows.
Blow, breezes, blow softly and sing
in the dark, flowing hair of the maiden;
But never again shall you bring
the voice that she loves to Winona.