So while the poet stood in this sweet spot;
Some fainted dreamings o'er his fancy shot;
Nor was it long ere he had told the tale
Of young Narcissus, and sad Echo's vale."
Keats.
Poor Pan, undeterred by the zealous passion of Echo for Narcissus, still continued to love her, and pleased himself by wandering in the woods and deserts, there calling upon her, for the pleasure of hearing her voice in reply.
"In thy cavern-hall,
Echo! art thou sleeping?
By the fountain's fall
Dreamy silence keeping?