poetry Tennyson's Bugle Song.
The splendor falls on castle walls, And srowy summits old in story, The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataiact leaps into glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying ; Blow, bugle, answer echoes, dyings dying, dying. Oh hark I oh hear 1 now thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going I Oh I sweet and far, from cliff and scar, The horns of Elf-land sweetly blowing. Blow ; let us hear the purple glens replying, Blow, bugle, answer echoes, dying, dying, dying. O Love, they die on yon rich sky, They faint o*~ hill, on field, on river ; Our eohoes 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.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WT18841018.2.35
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Waikato Times, Volume XXIII, Issue 1917, 18 October 1884, Page 1 (Supplement)
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134poetry Tennyson's Bugle Song. Waikato Times, Volume XXIII, Issue 1917, 18 October 1884, Page 1 (Supplement)
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