World's Best Poetry, Volume 9: Tragedy and Humor (Part 1) — Echo and the Lover by Anonymous

_Echo.

_ Air!

_Lover.

_ Mid airy cliffs and places high, Sweet Echo!

listening love, you lie.

_Echo.

_ You lie!

_Lover.

_ Thou dost resuscitate dead sounds,-- Hark!

how my voice revives, resounds!

_Echo.

_ Zounds!

_Lover.

_ I'll question thee before I go,-- Come, answer me more apropos!

_Echo.

_ Poh!

poh!

_Lover.

_ Tell me, fair nymph, if e'er you saw So sweet a girl as Phoebe Shaw.

_Echo.

_ Pshaw!

_Lover.

_ Say, what will turn that frisking coney Into the toils of matrimony?

_Echo.

_ Money!

_Lover.

_ Has Phoebe not a heavenly brow?

Is not her bosom white as snow?

_Echo.

_ Ass!

No!

_Lover.

_ Her eyes!

was ever such a pair?

Are the stars brighter than they are?

_Echo.

_ They are!

_Lover.

_ Echo, thou liest, but can't deceive me.

_Echo.

_ Leave me!

_Lover.

_ But come, thou saucy, pert romancer, Who is as fair as Phoebe?

Answer!

_Echo.

_ Ann, sir.

ANONYMOUS.