* ECHO AND NARCISSUS *

Through the green dell she went,

Bright haired, with cheeks that burned;

Her passion hardly pent;

Her eyes upon him turned.

Her crocus-coloured gown

Over her white, young breast beat up and down.

Adream, he did not guess,

But dwelt upon his thought

Of perfect loveliness,

Nor heeded when she caught

A sigh his bosom breathed,

And murmured it again with music wreathed.

Oh, wasted wealth of love;

While Echo’ s heart will break,

Narcissus from above,

Within a glassy lake,

Beholds perfection lie

And, for the vision of himself, must die.

Now, hid in bare-ribbed rock

With crocus-coloured veins,

She guards from windy shock,

She shields from wild March rains,

Where grass and granite meet,

The daffodil that’ s budding at her feet.