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Echo, be not heartless, I implore you,

Listen to my woe;

And I’ll evermore, as now, adore you

(Tho’ that augurs that I sometimes bore you)

For I fain would know

What’s to be done.

—“Be done!”

Oh but, sir, I must beseech, entreat you

That you hear me through.—

If a rare and radiant maid should meet you

And with smiles and wiles and pranks should greet you,

Pray, what’s one to do

When one sees her?

“Seize her!”

But I’m not quite well enough acquainted

With her, don’t you see?

Echo, when her lily face is painted

(On my soul), and at my heart she’s feinted,

And I’m blind as she,

How can I seize her?

“See, sir.”

But alas! the laws of Love prohibit

That his subjects see;

And besides, explicitly inhibit

Other sight than blindness to exhibit.

What then? I can ne

“See,” nor “seize her.”

“Cease, sir.”

But, friend Echo (for you are most truly

Friend and counselor),

Love’s commands must all be followed duly

(Tho’ himself most blind and most unruly);

Hence I can’t “see,” sir,

“Cease,” nor “seize her.”

“Cæsar!”

Yes, that’s what I’ve been ejaculating,

But it’s idle breath.

Now, if this consuming passionating

Doesn’t stop its wild peregrinating

It’ll be my death.

Must I let it?

“Let it!”

Friend should answer friend more seriously

Nor play upon grave words.

She’s affected quite as amorously

As who wakens you thus clamorously

With love’s scattered sherds,

Seeking surcease—

“Sir, cease!”

Nay, I will not cease till satisfaction

Is obtained from you.

Tell me what to do in this distraction

And I’ll vary from it not a fraction.—

Truth is, there are two—

Ann and Mary.

“Marry!”

Tell me, Echo, O sweet Echo, tell me,

Oh and truly tell

What sweet thralling charm should most impel me

That no other wight may quite excel me

When I choose my belle

For matrimony—

“Money.”

Tell me then without equivocation

If you value health,

Swear it by the hills, your habitation,

Whence you issue like an exhalation,—

Which one has the wealth?

Truly answer—

“Ann, sir.”

Thanks to thee, sweet Echo, Love’s pathfinder!

We shall never part.

Forthwith I will hie me forth and find her

And the wealthiest jingling love-songs wind her

Till I win her heart

And earn her mine.—

“Ann!—dern her mine!”

[This last he hears in after years.