Echo waits with art and care
And will the faults of song repair.
605
EMERSON: _May-Day,_ Line 439.

O love, they die, in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field or river:
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow for ever and for ever.
606
TENNYSON: _The Princess,_ Pt. iii., _Song._


=Eclipse.=

The sun, ...
In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds
On half the nations, and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs.
607
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. i., Line 597.


=Eden.=

They hand in hand, with wand'ring steps and slow,
Through Eden took their solitary way.
608
MILTON: _Par. Lost,_ Bk. xii., Line 645.