…nec corpus remanet, quondam quod amaverat Echo.*

P. Ovidi Nasonis Metamorphoses, Liber Tertius, 493.

He sits to gaze his selfish pool
Whilst I, his fond, besotted fool,
Grow hateful of the air that sips
The sweetness of his yearning lips.
They yearn for him as mine do yearn,
Or sun or stars above me burn.

The kisses of Narcissus I
Shall never taste: ’tis thus I die.
And tho’ ye’ll hear my voice down time
Recall the burden of this rhyme,
Yet know that I am gone and he
Lies loveless where ye too shall be.

*Nor the form remains, belovèd once of Echo.