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.