 | Diana's Looking Glass and Other Poems by Charles D. Bell |  |
ECHO.
Come, let us wake sweet Echo with a song,
Here she lies sleeping, waiting for our voice,
So call her loudly with a courteous tongue,
That coming forth she may with us rejoice,
For Morning walks in beauty o'er the dale,
And Night's bright glories 'fore her splendours pale.
Nymph of the hills, awake, awake!
Melodious answer to us make.
Here she lies sleeping, waiting for our voice,
So call her loudly with a courteous tongue,
That coming forth she may with us rejoice,
For Morning walks in beauty o'er the dale,
And Night's bright glories 'fore her splendours pale.
Nymph of the hills, awake, awake!
Melodious answer to us make.
What shall we sing to please the maiden shy,
And lure her from the secret solitude
In which she dwells withdrawn from ev'ry eye,
Amidst the deep recesses of the wood
In whose green boughs is heard the joyous lay
Of merry birds that greet the dawn of day?
Echo, sweet Echo, hear our strain;
Thy voice is bliss; thy silence pain.
And lure her from the secret solitude
In which she dwells withdrawn from ev'ry eye,
Amidst the deep recesses of the wood
In whose green boughs is heard the joyous lay
Of merry birds that greet the dawn of day?
Echo, sweet Echo, hear our strain;
Thy voice is bliss; thy silence pain.
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Of Nature shall we sing? its hills and dells,
Its gleams and glooms, its stars, or blazing sun,
The murm'ring whispers of its bubbling wells,
Its streams that through the flow'ry meadows run;
Of Spring's green buds, blue bells, and glossy leaves,
Summer's ripe fruits, and Autumn's garner'd sheaves.
Louder, O friends, and say we wait,
Expectant at her silent gate.
Its gleams and glooms, its stars, or blazing sun,
The murm'ring whispers of its bubbling wells,
Its streams that through the flow'ry meadows run;
Of Spring's green buds, blue bells, and glossy leaves,
Summer's ripe fruits, and Autumn's garner'd sheaves.
Louder, O friends, and say we wait,
Expectant at her silent gate.
Or shall we sing of love? How Corydon,
The shepherd boy, the fair Althea woo'd,
How beauteous Thyrsis fair Nerissa won,
Or fleet Alpheus Arethuse pursued,
Or Cynthia stoop'd from heav'n with looks of love,
While slept Endymion in the Latmian grove.
Hark, Comrades, hark, with such a theme,
Steal softly on the dreamer's dream.
The shepherd boy, the fair Althea woo'd,
How beauteous Thyrsis fair Nerissa won,
Or fleet Alpheus Arethuse pursued,
Or Cynthia stoop'd from heav'n with looks of love,
While slept Endymion in the Latmian grove.
Hark, Comrades, hark, with such a theme,
Steal softly on the dreamer's dream.
Or shall we sing the pleasures of the chase,
The horn of hunter, and the bay of hound,
Or sing the heat, and ardours of the race,
As spurns the mettled steed the turfy ground,
With songs like these well may the welkin ring,
As we in joyous numbers gaily sing.
Hear ye her voice? 'Tis here! 'Tis there!
Ah! now it fills th' enchanted air.
The horn of hunter, and the bay of hound,
Or sing the heat, and ardours of the race,
As spurns the mettled steed the turfy ground,
With songs like these well may the welkin ring,
As we in joyous numbers gaily sing.
Hear ye her voice? 'Tis here! 'Tis there!
Ah! now it fills th' enchanted air.
| Diana's Looking Glass and Other Poems by Charles D. Bell | |