Explore "Echo's Lament for Narcissus" by Alice Meynell on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
SLOW, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears;
Yet, slower yet; O faintly, gentle springs;
List to the heavy part the music bears;
Woe weeps out her division when she sings.
Droop herbs and flowers;
Fall grief in showers,
Our beauties are not ours;
O, I could still,
Like melting snow upon some craggy hill, / Drop, drop, drop, drop, / Since nature's pride is now a withered daffodil.