Echo was once a love-sick maid,
They say:—The tale is no deceiver!
Howe’er a woman’s form might fade,
Her voice would be the last to leave her!
EPIGRAM.
FROM SAVERIO BETTINELLI.
Before the shrine Aurelia pours her prayer—
“Oh, let my suffering consort prove thy care!”
The anxious spouse returned—the husband died:
“Good saint! I did not ask so much!” she cried.