Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold :: :: University of Virginia Library

I like Sue,
And her blue
Pretty eyes with their passion;
And the shape of her shoulders and waist's finer fashion
To which none could object,
Which you would not expect
In a Whitechapel gal under tatters and tears,
With the slough of the slums
And the stainings and crumbs
Which as witness to recent debauches she bears;
Yet she's natty,
And chatty.

I like Sue,
She is true
And as tender as darlings
Who herd like the pigs and must scavenge like starlings
For a meal, as they may,
From the dustbin or way
That is footed by poor men and wheeled o'er by rich;
Ah, she has not your pride,
And the dirt is outside
And not carved into idols and throned on a niche;
She's, if vicious,
Delicious.

535

I like Sue,
And the hue
Of her shaded brown tresses,
And her wondering looks and her baby addresses;
While the colour lies fresh
On her healthy young flesh,
All in spite of the spots which would quickly rub off,
As the bloom makes its nest
In the rose's red breast;
It wears better than rouge, lady, though you may scoff;
She is ruddy,
If muddy.

I like Sue,
For the clue
That she gives to old fountains,
First principles sure and sublime as the mountains;
O she carries me back
To the earliest track,
And behind this pale mumming and falsehood and dearth;
While she breathes of the soil
And the sweetness of toil,
And the hand of the Maker and mothering Earth;
Yes, at twenty
That's plenty.