Consider Echo, repeating softly, only the words that came before,
Delighting in the chance to speak to her love,
And think of that first ill-fated conversation, near the glade,
Of the heartbreaking sadness. Think of the tragedy it wrought!
There are the soulful trees, as serene as the calm after a storm;
And there are the kindly daisies on the hillside gazing down upon the unfortunate scene.
And think of Echo, who is wasting away in despair:
More lonesome than a solitary pebble, dying slowly in the recesses of the shadows and the soft, caring rain that comes and goes with each painful breath. Admire her passion!
Feel Echo’s tardy heartbeat as it slows evermore
Whilst she helplessly watches her love waste away at the mesmerizing image in the pool
Who cares if she died of heartache?
See her calling too late for him to turn and look not at the pool
While the flowers of new, spring up as the body of her love.