WRITING A SONNET.

Doris, the fair, a sonnet needs must have;

I ne’er was so put to ’t before;—a Sonnet!

Why fourteen verses must be spent upon it;

’Tis good howe’er to have conquered the first stave,

Yet I shall ne’er find rhymes enough by half,

Said I, and found myself i’ th’ midst o’ the second.

If twice four verses were but fairly reckoned

I should turn back on th’ hardest part and laugh,

Thus far with good success I think I’ve scribbled,

And of the twice seven lines have clean got o’er ten.

Courage! another ’ll finish the first triplet,

Thanks to thee, Muse, my work begins to shorten,

There’s thirteen lines got through driblet by driblet:

’Tis done! count how you will I warrant there’s fourteen.