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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.
And more than echoes talk along the walls.
And more than echoes talk along the walls.
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.
What would it profit thee to be the first
Of echoes, tho thy tongue should live forever,
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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.
Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
And feeds her grief.
Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
And feeds her grief.
Echo waits with art and care
And will the faults of song repair.
Echo waits with art and care
And will the faults of song repair.
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.
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.