Ode to the probabilistic automaton
Pants on fire, burning bright.
And what chain, & what art?
What the sinew? what the ****?
Markov! Markov! chains on fire.
On what wings does he aspire?
And what hand at a rapid rate
Dare ‘em hastily generate?
In the forests burning bright,
In the distant deeps and skies.
Lo ‘n’ behold! what a symmetry!
Did he smile his work to see?
Tyger! Tyger! pants on fire.
Pants on fire, burning bright.
And what chain, & what art?
What the sinew? what the ****?
Python! Python! Monte Carlo,
The chain order is so low.
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