Blow Bugle blow

    And snowy summits old in story：

    The long light shakes across the lakes

    And the wild cataract¹ leaps in glory.

    Blow bugle² 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.