How sweet the answer Echo makes
To music at night;
When, rous`d by lute or horn, she wakes,
And faw away, o`er lawns and lakes,
Goes answering light.

Yet love hath echoes truer far,
And far more sweet,
Then e`er beneath the moonlight`s star,
Of horn, or lute, or soft guitar,
The songs repeat.


`Tis when the sigh, in youth sincere,
And only then,
The sigh, that`s breath`d for one to hear,
Is by that one, that only dear,
Breath`d back again.
Again, again, again, ...