Blow, Bugle, Blow

THE splendour falls on castle walls

  And snowy summits old in story:

  The long light shakes across the lakes,

  And the wild cataract leaps in glory.

Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,

Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

  O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,

  And thinner, clearer, farther going!

  O sweet and far from cliff and scar

  The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!

Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying:

Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

  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.

Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,

And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.