In a lone valley fair and far, br Where many sweet beguilements are, br I know a spot to lag and dream br Through damask morns and noons agleam; br For feet fall lightly on the fern br And twilight is a wondrous thing, br When the winds blow from some far bourne br Beyond the hill rims westering; br There echoes ring as if a throng br Of fairies hid from mortal eyes br Sent laughter back in spirit guise br And song as the pure soul of song; br Oh, 'tis a spot to love right well, br This lonely, witching Echo Dell! br br Even the winds an echo know, br Elusive, faint, such as might blow br From wandering elf-land bugles far, br Beneath an occidental star; br And I have thought the blue bells lent br A subtle music to my ear, br And that the pale wild roses bent br To harken sounds I might not hear. br The tasselled fir trees softly croon br The fabled lore of elder days. br And through the shimmering eastern haze br Floats slowly up the mellow moon; br Come, heart o' mine, for love must dwell br In whispering, witching Echo Dell.