Youbidmetry dobson ghs
You bid me try, to write a rondo. What? Forthwith? To-night? Reflect. Some skill I have, it is 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. It is all because your eyes are bright. Now just a pair to end in ooh. When maid's command, what can't we do? Behold, the rondo, tasteful, light, you bid me try. Demain.
