User: Can you write me a poem about luck in the style of SIR THOMAS WYATT?
Assistant: Sure, here's a poem about luck in the style of SIR THOMAS WYATT:
  Lucks, my fair falcon, and your fellows all,
   How well pleasant it were your liberty!
Ye not forsake me that fair might ye befall.
But they that sometime liked my company:
Like lice away from dead bodies they crawl.
Lo what a proof in light adversity!
But ye my birds, I swear by all your bells,
Ye be my friends, and so be but few else.