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" 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. "
Willson's Intermediate Fifth Reader: On the Original Plan of the School and ... - 251. oldal
szerző: Marcius Willson - 1870 - 372 oldal
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

The Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature, Science, and Art, 6. kötet

1867 - 796 oldal
...revive the ashes of the urn 1" . . But onr poet vindicates the eternal in humanity : — " 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,...

The Princess: A Medley

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1850 - 196 oldal
...us hear the purple glens replying : Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. 0 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,...

Recollections of a Literary Life: Or, Books, Places and People

Mary Russell Mitford - 1852 - 592 oldal
...answer echoes, dying, dying, dying. 0 love, they die on yon rich sky, They faint on hill, on field, on river; Our echoes roll from soul to soul And grow...flying, And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. It is like a descent from Fairyland to the wild stormy ocean, to turn from the dying falls of Mr. Tennyson's...

The Book of English Songs: From the Sixteenth to the Nineteenth Century

Charles Mackay - 1851 - 332 oldal
...hill, on field, on 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. ' THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY RBPBRBNCB DEPARTMENT Thii book is under no circumstance* to be taken...

Home and Social Philosophy: Or, Chapters on Every-day Topics, 2. kötet

1852 - 252 oldal
...hill, on field, on river : Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever, and for ever 1 Blow, bugle, blow ! set the wild echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer ! dying, dying, dying !" These echoes will " roll from soul to soul" long after we have ceased to hear them. We have seen...

Poems, 2. kötet

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1853 - 468 oldal
...us hear the purple glens replying : Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. 0 love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or...flying, And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. IV. " THERE sinks the nebulous star we call the Sun, If that hypothesis of theirs be sound," Said Ida...

The Universalist Quarterly and General Review, 10. kötet

1853 - 448 oldal
...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...grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wide echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying." K. 18. Passages from the History...

English Literature of the Nineteenth Century: on the Plan of the Author's ...

Charles Dexter Cleveland - 1853 - 800 oldal
...hill, on field, on 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. CIRCUMSTANCE.1 TENNYSON. [VICTORIA, It is difficult to make selections from the " IN MEMORIAM," that...

Recollections of a Literary Life, Or, Books, Places, and People, 1. kötet

Mary Russell Mitford - 1853 - 378 oldal
...on hill, on field, on 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. It is like a descent from Fairyland to the wild stormy ocean, to turn from the dying falls of Mr. Tennyson's...

January and June: Being Out-door Thinkings and Fire-side Musings

Benjamin Franklin Taylor - 1854 - 296 oldal
...us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. ' O lore, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill, or field...grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wide echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.' The youngest went first; innocence...




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