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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.
Like--but oh! how different!
Like--but oh! how different!
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.
The melancholy ghosts of dead renown,
Whispering faint echoes of the world's applause.
The melancholy ghosts of dead renown,
Whispering faint echoes of the world's applause.
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.
Never sleeping, still awake,
Pleasing most when most I speak;
The delight of old and young,
read more
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.
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.
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?"
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.