Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.”
The stress of meaning is in the words our and grow. Our echoes roll from soul to soul—from generation to generation—from grandparent to parent and grandchild. This poem represents unity through the family in its relation to the future, just as the first two songs represent that unity through the past and present.
The fourth is intended to show the influences of home and wedded love in nerving a man for the shocks and conflicts of life:
“Thy voice is heard thro’ rolling drums,
That beat to battle where he stands;
Thy face across his fancy comes,
And gives the battle to his hands:
A moment while the trumpets blow,
He sees his brood about thy knee;