The Boy and the Echo O when I heard the murmur soft Of winds among the glades, I thought it was a voice that called From yon high leafy shade.

‘O come,’ I heard it hush, ‘O come, Seek in the sunlight fair, Where lovers lean doth hush thy tongue, Be swift and never wear,’ Yet silence painted all the streams And breathed on golden chairs.

The winds still murmured, soft and low, Upon yon greenness there; The sun still smiled its soft bright heir, To waft on tender air.

• Christina Rossetti