Looked one black dot against the verge of dawn,

And on the mere the wailing died away.

BUGLE SONG.

[From The Princess.]

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.