The Splendour Falls

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 forever and forever. 

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

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

- Alfred Tennyson