* * * You bid me try, blue-eyes, to write A Rondeau. What! - forthwith? - tonight? Reflect. Some skill I have, 'tis true; But thirteen lines! - and rimed on two! 'Refrain' as well. Ah, Hapless plight! Still, there are five lines - ranged aright. These Gallic bonds, I feared, would fright My easy Muse. They did, till you - You bid me try! That makes them eight. The port's in sight - 'Tis all because your eyes are bright! Now just a pair to end in 'oo' - When maids command, what can't we do? Behold! - the rondeau, tasteful, light, You bid me try! |
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