WHO doth presume my mistress's name to scan, Goes about more than any way he can, Since all men think that it is Susan. @3Echo.@1 Ann. What sayst? Then tell who is as white as swan, While others set by her are pale and wan; Then, Echo, speak, is it not Susan? @3Echo.@1 Ann. Tell, Echo, yet, whose middle's but a span, Some being gross as bucket, round as pan; Say, Echo, then, is it not Susan? @3Echo.@1 Ann. Say, is she not soft as meal without bran? Though yet in great haste once from me she ran, Must I not however love Susan? @3Echo.@1 Ann. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HITS AND RUNS by CARL SANDBURG GUILIELMUS REX by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SUMMER DAYS by WATHEN MARK WILKS CALL RHOECUS by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 63 by PHILIP SIDNEY THE RIVER IN THE MEADOWS by LEONIE ADAMS THE SUPPLIANTS: THE WORLD'S HARMONIOUS PLAN by AESCHYLUS FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: MOURNER'S CONSOLED by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |