Oh! my dear love of Thespaie
Death knows me not for myself,
Love of enchanted Echo,
Swine and dine with me of my sake,
Love thyself not, Narcissus.
Curs'd was I to lain my bearer
My life on the foretold doom I liest,
Detest was I on the cast, but move to embrace,
life of thee on thy self of love,
Alas! echo loves thy bud,
But there dwell on thy love of thyself,
Chant'd in the magical forest of pureness,
The horizon reflects your love and oneness,
Hem! Death runneth from you afar,
love yourself not to see thy ripen age,
As foreseen you the cause thy death,
But on the love immortal you became,
Thus the Narcissus budding by the river.

Oh! my dear companion of Thebes,
Oh! my own Oedipus of Thebes,
Fortune foresaw thy agony of death,
Like my own death of love,
But thy death from thy bearer lain,
Of love from the nymph, Echo, I detest,
Your death from the love of your bearer,
Sitting by the river side, perceive of love,
Curs'd by the rivalryof Ameinuis,
Enchan'td to a flowering bud,
As perchance we meet,
Our soul transcends to immortality,
By the river bank i dwell soley with my reflection,
In passion to live, fell in the forecast,
You became, as art lives, dwells on the heart.