Oh that it were possible, After long grief and pain, To find the arms of my true love, Around me once again

Strong Son of God, immortal Love, Whom we, that have not seen thy face, By faith, and faith alone, embrace, Believing where we cannot prove.

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, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

What was once to me mere matter of the fancy now has grown the vast necessity of heart and life.

Rich in saving common-sense, And, as the greatest only are, In his simplicity sublime.

Never, oh! never, nothing will die; The stream flows, The wind blows, The cloud fleets, The heart beats, Nothing will die.

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.