Hendecasyllabics

O you chorus of indolent reviewers,           Irresponsible, indolent reviewers,           Look, I come to the test, a tiny poem           All composed in a metre of Catullus           All in quantity, careful of my motion,           Like a skater on ice that hardly bears him,           Lest I fall unawares before the people,           Waking laughter in indolent reviewers.           Should I flounder awhile without a tumble           Through this metrification of Catullus,           They should speak to me not without a welcome,           All that chorus of indolent reviewers.           Hard, hard, hard is it, only not to tumble,           So fantastical is the dainty metre.           Wherefore slight me not wholly, nor believe me           Too presumptuous, indolent reviewers.           O blatant Magazines, regard me rather---           Since I blush to belaud myself a moment---           As some rare little rose, a piece of inmost           Horticultural art, or half coquette-like           Maiden, not to be greeted unbenignly.