Hark! to the hurried question of Despair
"Where is my child?"--An echo answers--
"Where?"

Hark! to the hurried question of Despair
"Where is my child?"--An echo answers--
"Where?"

Never sleeping, still awake,
Pleasing most when most I speak;
The delight of old and young,
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Never sleeping, still awake,
Pleasing most when most I speak;
The delight of old and young,
Though I speak without a tongue.
Nought but one thing can confound me,
Many voices joining round me,
Then I fret, and rave, and gabble,
Like the labourers of Babel.

Let echo, too, perform her part,
Prolonging every note with art;
And in a low expiring strain,
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Let echo, too, perform her part,
Prolonging every note with art;
And in a low expiring strain,
Play all the comfort o'er again.

Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
And feeds her grief.

Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
And feeds her grief.

I heard . . .
. . . the great echo flap
And buffet round the hills read more

I heard . . .
. . . the great echo flap
And buffet round the hills from bluff to bluff.

And more than echoes talk along the walls.

And more than echoes talk along the walls.

Sweetest Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen
Within thy airy shell,
By slow Meander's margent green,
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Sweetest Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen
Within thy airy shell,
By slow Meander's margent green,
And in the violet-embroidered vale.

Mysterious haunts of echoes old and far,
The voice divine of human loyalty.

Mysterious haunts of echoes old and far,
The voice divine of human loyalty.

But her voice is still living immortal,
The same you have frequently heard,
In your rambles in read more

But her voice is still living immortal,
The same you have frequently heard,
In your rambles in valleys and forests,
Repeating your ultimate word.