Classic Poem

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!