Her bones are petrified, her voice is found

In vaults, where still it doubles every sound.”

“The Nymph, when nothing could Narcissus move, Still dashed with blushes for her slighted love, Lived in the shady covert of the woods, In solitary caves and dark abodes; Where pining wandered the rejected fair, Till harassed out, and worn away with care, The sounding skeleton, of blood bereft, Besides her bones and voice had nothing left. Her bones are petrified, her voice is found In vaults, where still it doubles every sound.”

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Genesis 9:13:⁠—