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And a million horrible bellowing echoes broke
From the red-ribb'd hollow behind the wood,
And thunder'd up read more
And a million horrible bellowing echoes broke
From the red-ribb'd hollow behind the wood,
And thunder'd up into Heaven.
Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
And feeds her grief.
Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
And feeds her grief.
I came to the place of my birth and cried: "The friends of my
youth, where are they?"--and an read more
I came to the place of my birth and cried: "The friends of my
youth, where are they?"--and an echo answered, "Where are they?"
What would it profit thee to be the first
Of echoes, tho thy tongue should live forever,
read more
What would it profit thee to be the first
Of echoes, tho thy tongue should live forever,
A thing that answers, but hath not a thought
As lasting but as senseless as a stone.
How sweet the answer Echo makes
To music at night,
When, roused by lute or horn, she read more
How sweet the answer Echo makes
To music at night,
When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes,
And far away, o'er lawns and lakes,
Goes answering light.
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow for ever and for ever.
Blow, bugle, blow, read more
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow for ever and for ever.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.
Let echo, too, perform her part,
Prolonging every note with art;
And in a low expiring strain,
read more
Let echo, too, perform her part,
Prolonging every note with art;
And in a low expiring strain,
Play all the comfort o'er again.
And more than echoes talk along the walls.
And more than echoes talk along the walls.
The birds chaunt melody on every bush,
The snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun,
The green read more
The birds chaunt melody on every bush,
The snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun,
The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind,
And make a checkered shadow on the ground;
Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit,
And whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds,
Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns,
As if a double hunt were heard at once,
Let us sit down and mark their yellowing noise;
And after conflict such as was supposed
The wand'ring prince and Dido once enjoyed,
When with a happy storm they were surprised,
And curtained with a counsel-keeping cave,
We may, each wreathed in the other's arms,
Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber,
Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds
Be unto us as is a nurse's song
Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep.