(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941 / Calcutta (Kolkata), Bengal Presidency / British India)

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.

User Rating: 3,0 / 5 ( 79 votes ) 22

Comments (22)

heart touching poem💓💓
great....
I LIKE THIS POEM....IT IS SO NICE..........
I wish... A very powerful wish. It might never come true. But it's always worth believing everything can come true. I wish. I wish. To fly among the fairies at midnight. For freedom to be released. For Obama to come back. For friends that are true. I wish.
I wish.. A very powerful wish. That might never come true. But it's still worth trying to make things come true.
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