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 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.

Even Echo speaks not on these radiant moors.
- Barry Cornwall (pseudonym of Bryan Waller Procter),

Even Echo speaks not on these radiant moors.
- Barry Cornwall (pseudonym of Bryan Waller Procter),

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.

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?"

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.

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?"

Like--but oh! how different!

Like--but oh! how different!