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Alfred Lord Tennyson - Blow, Bugle, BlowAlfred Lord Tennyson - Blow, Bugle, Blow
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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.
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