Explore "Epitaph on a Lap-Dog" by Robert Burns on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Named Echo
In wood and wild, ye warbling throng, / Your heavy loss deplore; / Now, half extinct your powers of song, / Sweet Echo is no more.
Ye jarring, screeching things around, / Scream your discordant joys; / Now, half your din of tuneless sound / With Echo silent lies.