That on the stretch'd forefinger of all Time

Sparkle forever.

The Princess. Part ii. Line 355.

Blow, bugle, blow! set the wild echoes flying!

Blow, bugle! answer, echoes! dying, dying, dying.

The Princess. Part iii. Line 352.

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.