2 min read
Слушать(AI)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 Lord Tennyson
Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson FRS (6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892) was a British poet. He was the Poet Laureate during much of Queen Victo
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
The Princess part 1
A prince I was, blue-eyed, and fair in face, Of temper amorous, as the first of May, With lengths of yellow ringlet, like a girl, For on my cradle shone the Northern star
The Higher Pantheism
The sun, the moon, the stars, the seas, the hills and the plains,-Are not these, O Soul, the Vision of Him who reigns Is not the Vision He, tho' He be not that which He seems Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dr...
In Memoriam A H H 116
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Maud
Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, Night, has flown, Come into the garden,
