Lord Alfred Tennyson

And out of darkness came the hands
That reach thro' nature, moulding men.

And out of darkness came the hands
That reach thro' nature, moulding men.

And rolling far along the gloomy shores
The voice of days of old and days to be.

And rolling far along the gloomy shores
The voice of days of old and days to be.

Then she rode forth, clothed on with chastity:
The deep air listen'd round her as she rode,
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Then she rode forth, clothed on with chastity:
The deep air listen'd round her as she rode,
And all the low wind hardly breathed for fear.

Not perfect, nay, but full of tender wants.

Not perfect, nay, but full of tender wants.

Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow for ever and for ever.
Blow, bugle, blow, read more

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.