Why, jeering Echo! thus renew my pain,
And give me mine own sorrows back again?
Speak but to those who hail thee and rejoice,
Nor render grief's involuntary voice.
If to these rocks in plaintive mood I come,
In trust I came, for I believed them dumb;
And if one name I spoke in trust too free,
To Silence it was spoken—not to Thee.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem