The Works of Abraham Cowley/Volume 2/Echo
ECHO.
Tir'd with the rough denials of my prayer,From that hard she whom I obey,I come, and find a nymph much gentler here,That gives consent to all I say.Ah, gentle nymph! who lik'st so wellIn hollow, solitary caves to dwell;Her heart being such, into it go,And do but once from thence answer me so!
Complaisant nymph! who dost thus kindly shareIn griefs whose cause thou dost not know;Hadst thou but eyes, as well as tongue and ear,How much compassion wouldst thou show!Thy flame, whilst living, or a flower,Was of less beauty, and less ravishing power.Alas! I might as easilyPaint thee to her, as describe her to thee.
By repercussion beams engender fire;Shapes by reflection shapes beget;The voice itself, when stopt, does back retire,And a new voice is made by it.Thus things by oppositionThe gainers grow; my barren love aloneDoes from her stony breast rebound,Producing neither image, fire, nor sound.