Fairies and Bugles

I couldn't think of much to write about today, so here's one of Tennyson's poems. It's called "Blow, Bugle, Blow"...

Before you read it, imagine a dark sky with stars glinting through skeleton-trees, the ruins of a noble castle, crumbling in rough heaps of dusty stone, dark tentacles of ivy, over spreading the ruins, and a black lake, shining in the moon's path..

Also, imagine that another, ancient fairy world lies just beyond this landscape - so close that you can hear its music. *By the way, I'm not entirely sure why the words didn't come up, but the blank space actually isn't blank. The words are in white - if you click and drag on the blank-ness, you'll see the words - almost magically.*

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,	5
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!	10
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,	15
And grow for ever and for ever.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.

- Lydie