"YES, IT WAS THE MOUNTAIN ECHO"
Written at Town-end, Grasmere. The echo came from Nab-scar, when
I was walking on the opposite side of Rydal Mere. I will here
mention, for my dear Sister's sake, that, while she was sitting
alone one day high up on this part of Loughrigg Fell, she was so
affected by the voice of the Cuckoo heard from the crags at some
distance that she could not suppress a wish to have a stone
inscribed with her name among the rocks from which the sound
proceeded. On my return from my walk I recited these verses to
YES, it was the mountain Echo,
Solitary, clear, profound,
Answering to the shouting Cuckoo,
Giving to her sound for sound!
To a babbling wanderer sent;
Like her ordinary cry,
Like--but oh, how different!
Hears not also mortal Life?
Hear not we, unthinking Creatures!
Slaves of folly, love, or strife--
Voices of two different natures?
Have not 'we' too?--yes, we have
Answers, and we know not whence;
Echoes from beyond the grave,
Such rebounds our inward ear
Catches sometimes from afar--
Listen, ponder, hold them dear;
For of God,--of God they are.