Honour win, us rightly leading, That betimes we may appear In yon wide and
Trees on trees, a stalwart legion, Swiftly past us are retreating, And the cliffs
with lowly greeting; Rocks long - snouted, row on row, How they snort, and
Through the stones and heather springing, Brook and brooklet haste below;
Hark the rustling! Hark the singing! Hearken to love's plaintive lays; Voices of
those heavenly days What we hope, and what we love! Like a tale of olden
time, Echo's voice prolongs the chime.
To - whit! To - whoo! It sounds more near; Plover, owl and jay appear, All