Youbidmetry dobson arr
You bid me try, to write a rondo. 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 ports in sight. Tis all because your eyes are bright. Now just a pair to end in ooh. When maids command, what can't we do? Behold the rondo, tasteful, light. You bid me try.
