YOU bid me try, BLUE-EYES, to write A Rondeau. What! -- forthwith? -- to-night? Reflect. Some skill I have, 'tis true; -- But thirteen lines! -- and rhymed 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! |