Poem by Thomas Moore

From “Irish Melodies”. 93. Echo

HOW sweet the answer Echo makes
         To music at night,
When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes,
And far away, o’er lawns and lakes,
         Goes answering light.

Yet Love hath echoes truer far,
         And far more sweet,
Than 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 breathed for one to hear,
Is by that one, that only dear,
         Breathed back again!

1. From “Irish Melodies”. 41. Lesbia Hath a Beaming Eye
2. From “Irish Melodies”. 47. What the Bee Is to the Floweret
3. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 27
4. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 32
5. From “Irish Melodies”. 120. Oh, Could We Do with This World of Ours

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