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Lo! Phæbus the glorious descends from his throne! | return to his room, found, to his no small surprise They advance, they float in, the Olympians all! and mortification, that though he still retained some With divinities fills my
vague and dim recollection of the general purport Terrestrial hall!
of the vision, yet, with the exception of some eight
or ten scattered lines and images, all the rest had How shall I yield you
passed away like the images on the surface of a Due entertainment,
stream into which a stone had been cast, but, alas ! Celestial choir ?
without the after restoration of the latter. Me rather, bright guests! with your wings of up
Then all the charm buoyance
Is broken-all that phantom-world so fair Bear aloft to your homes, to your banquets of joy
Vanishes, and a thousand circlets spread, ance,
And each misshapes the other. Stay a while,
Poor youth! who scarcely darest lift up thine eyesThat the roofs of Olympus may echo my lyre !
The stream will soon renew its smoothness, soon Ha! we mount! on their pinions they waft up my The visions will return! And lo, he stays, soul!
And soon the fragnients dimof lovely forms
Come trembling back, unite, and now once more
The pool becomes a mirror.
Yet, from the still surviving recollections in his
mind, the author has frequently purposed to finish Pour out for the poet,
for himself what had been originally, as it were, Hebe! pour free!
given to him. Eauepov adrov aow: but the to-morQuicken his eyes with celestial dew,
row is yet to come. That Styx the detested no more he may view, As a contrast to this vision, I have annexed a And like one of us gods may conceit him to be!
fragment of a very different character, describing Thanks, Hebe! I quaff it! Io pæan, I cry!
with equal fidelity the dream of pain and disease. The wine of th’immortals
- Note to the first edition, 1816.)
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man,
Down to sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round: [The following fragment is here published at
And here were gardens bright with sinuous rills, the request of a poet of great and deserved celebrity, where blossom’d many an incense-bearing tree; and, as far as the author's own opinions are con
And here were forests ancient as the hills, cerned, rather as a psychological curiosity, than on
Infolding sunny spots of greenery. the ground of any supposed poetic merits.
In the summer of the year 1797, the author, then But 0 that deep romantic chasm which slanted in ill health, had retired to a lonely farm-house Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! between Porlock and Linton, on the Exmoor con- A savage place! as holy and enchanted fiues of Somerset and Devonshire. In consequence As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted of a slight indisposition, an anodyne had been pre- By woman wailing for her demon lover! scribed, from the effects of which he fell asleep in And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seethhis chair at the moment that he was reading the
ing, following sentence, or words of the same substance, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, in Purchas's “ Pilgrimage:"_"Here the Khan A mighty fountain momently was forced : Kubla commanded a palace to be built, and a stately Amid whose swist half-intermitted burst garden thereunto ; and thus ten miles of fertile Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, ground were enclosed with a wall.” The author or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's fail: continued for about three hours in a profound sleep, And ’mid these dancing rocks at once and ever at least of the external senses, during which time It Aung up momently the sacred river. he has the most vivid confidence that he could not Five miles, meandering with a mazy motion, have composed less than from two to three hun- Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, dred lines; if that indeed can be called composition Then reach'd the caverns measureless to man, in which all the images rose up before him as things And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean: with a parallel production of the correspondent And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far expressions, without any sensation, or conscious-Ancestral voices prophesying war! ness of effort. On awaking he appeared to himself to have a distinct recollection of the whole, The shadow of the dome of pleasure and taking his pen, ink, and paper, instantly and Floated midway on the waves; eagerly wrote down the lines that are here pre- Where was heard the mingled measure served. At this moment he was unfortunately
From the fountain and the caves. called out by a person on business from Porlock, It was a miracle of rare device, and detained by him above an hour, and on his A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !
A damsel with a dulcimer
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
THE PAINS OF SLEEP.
ERE on my bed my limbs I lay, It hath not been my use to pray With moving lips or bended knees; But silently, by slow degrees, My spirit I to love compose, In humble trust mine eyelids close, With reverential resignation, No wish conceived, no thought expressid ! Only a sense of supplication, A sense o’er all my soul imprest That I am weak, yet not unblest, Since in me, round me, everywhere, Eternal Strength and Wisdom are. But yesternight I pray'd aloud In anguish and in agony, Up-starting from the fiendish crowd Of shapes and thoughts that tortured me: A lurid light, a trampling throng, Sense of intolerable wrong, And whom I scorn'd, those only strong! Thirst of revenge, the powerless will Still baffled, and yet burning still ! Desire with loathing strangely mix'd, On wild or hateful objects fix'd. Fantastic passions ! maddening brawl! And shame and terror over all! Deeds to be hid which were not hid, Which all confused I could not know, Whether I suffer'd, or I did : For all seem'd guilt, remorse, or wo, My own or others', still the same Life-stifling fear, soul-stilling shame. So two nights pass’d: the night's dismay Sadden'd and stupn'd the coming day. Sleep, the wide blessing, seem'd to me Distemper's worst calamity. The third night, when my own loud scream Had waked me from the fiendish dream, O’ercome with sufferings strange and wild, I wept as I had been a child ; And having thus by tears subdued Ty anguish to a milder mood,
Such punishments, I said, were due
THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT
IN SEVEN PARTS.
Facile credo, plures esse Naturas invisibiles quam risi. biles in rerum universitate. Sed horum omnium familiar quis nobis enarrabit ? et gradus et cognationes et discrimina et singulorum munera ? Quid agunt ? quæ loca habitant ? Harum rerum notitiam semper ambisit ingenium humanum, nunquam atligit. Juvat, interea, non ditliteor, quandoque in animo, tanquam in tabula, majoris et melioris mundi imaginem contemplari: ne mens 29 suefacta hədiernæ vitæ minutiís se contraha: nimis, et tota subsidat in pusillas cogitationes. Sed veritati interes invigilandum est, modusque servandus, ut certa ab incer. tis, diem a nocie, distinguamus.-T. BURNET: Archeol. Phil. p. 63.
Der meetett three
PART I. It is an ancient mariner,
An ancient mar And he stoppeth one of three :
gallant bidden to “By thy long gray beard and glitter- a wedding-feast,
and detaiseth ing eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
“ The bridegroom's doors are open'd
He holds him with his skinny hand :
He holds him with his glittering The wedding
guest is speil. eye
bound by the eye The wedding-guest stood still, of the old seatar And listens like a three years' child; trained to bear
ing man, and conThe mariner hath his will.
The wedding-guest sat on a stone,
The ship was cheer'd, the harbour
The mariner tells The sun came up upon the left, In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, how the ship sail.
Out of the sea came he! ed mouthward
It perch'd for vespers nine: with a good wind And he shone bright, and on the right Whiles all the night, through fogand fair weather: Went down into the sea. till it reached the
smoke white, line,
Glimmer'd the white moonshine.
“God save thee, ancient mariner! The ancient mari. The wedding-guest here beat his From the fiends that plague thee thus! killeth the pious breast,
Why look'st thou so ?"— With my bird of good For he heard the loud bassoon.
I shot the ALBATROSS.
Out of the sea came he,
Still hid in mist, and on the left
Nor any day for food or play
Came to the mariner's hollo!
His shipmated cry
out against the And it would work 'em wo:
ancient mariner, With sloping masts and dripping prow, That made the breeze to blow. For all averr’d, I had kill'd the bird for killing the bird
of good-luck. As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe,
Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay,
That made the breeze to blow!
cleared off, they The glorious sun uprist:
justify the same, And southward aye we fled. Then all averrod, I had kill'd the bird and thus make
themselvos ae. And now there came both mist and That brought the fog and mist.
complices in the snow,
'Twas right, said they, such birds to crime.
continues; the The land of ice, And through the drifts the snowy
ship enters the and of fearful clifts The furrow follow'd free ;
Pacific Ocean, and Bounds, where DO living thing was Did send a dismal sheen:
We were the first that ever burst
even till it reach.
es the line. Nor shapes of men nor beasts we Into that silent sea. ken
Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt The ship hath The ice was all between.
been suddenly down,
becalmed. The ice was here, the ice was there,
'Twas sad as sad could be ;
And we did speak only to break
All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand, bird, called the albatross, Thorough the fog it came ;
No bigger than the moon. through the snow As if it had been a Christian soul, Day after day, day after day, fog, and was re. ceived with grea! We hail'd it in God's name.
We stuck, nor breath nor motion ; joy and hospita
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
And the albatross
begins to be The helmsman steer'd us through! And all the boards did shrink :
Water, water, everywhere, And lo! the alba. And a good south wind sprung up
Nor any drop to drink. tross proveth a bird of good behind;
The very deep did rot: 0) Christ! omen, and follow. eth the ship as it The albatross did follow,
That ever this should be ! returned north- And every day, for food or play, Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs ward through fog Came to the mariner's hollo!
Upon the slimy sea, and floating ice.
to be seen.
scea 23 bar
their sore distress
Om aad ber
no other su taari
About, about, in reel and rout When that strange shape drove sud-
but tbe telesa A spirit bad fol. And some in dreams assured were
of a ship lowed them; one of the spirit that plagued us so;
(Heaven's mother send us grace !) of the invisible in. liabitants of this Nine fathom deep he had follow'd us As if through a dungeon-grate he planet,-neither From the land of mist and snow.
Are those her sails that glance in the
Are those her ribs through which the and its ribs are The shipmates,in Ah! well-a-day! what evil looks
sun would sain throw Had I from old and young !
Did peer, as through a grate;
setting a the whole guilt on Instead of the cross, the albatross
And is that woman all her crew? the apcient mari. About my neck was hung.
Is that a DEATH, and are there two? The spectre ner;-in siga
Is DEATH that woman's mate? whereof they
death-tuate, 11 hang the dead sea-bird round his PART III.
Her lips were red, her looks were the skeletreebip. neck.
free, THERE pass'd a weary time. Each
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Night-Mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was
Who thicks man's blood with cold. The ancient ma. When looking westward, I beheld sign in the ele. A something in the sky.
The naked hulk alongside came,
Death and Le ment afar ofl.
And the twain were casting dice;
“ The game is done! I've won, I've ship's cres, as! And then it seem'd a mist;
she, the latter, It moved and moved, and took at last
Quoth she, and whistles thrice.
The sun's rim dips; the stars rush No twilight
within the c3
At one stride comes the dark;
With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea
Off shot the spectre-bark.
We listen’d and look'd sideways up! At the rising eth him to be a lips baked,
Fear at my heart, as at a cup, ship; and at a We could nor laugh nor wail;
My life-blood seem'd to sip! freeth his speech Through utter drought all dumb we
The stars were dim, and thick the thirst.
The steersman's face by his lamp
Till clomb above the eastern bar
The horned moon, with one bright
Too quick for groan or sigh, a ship, that comes onward without Hither to work us weal;
Each turn'd his face with a ghastly wind or tido? Without a breeze, without a tide,
pang, She steadies with upright keel!
And cursed me with his eye.
in-DeatA bare diced for the
Wispeth the 15 cient manner.
of the SD.
dear ransom he
from the bonds of
His shipdates drop down dead.
The western wave was all a flame,
Four times fifty living men,
moon he behold.
creatures of the calm.
in his heart.
But Life-in-Death The souls did from their bodies fly,- Her beams bemock'd the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread;
A still and awful red.
Beyond the shadow of the ship By the light of the The wedding “I FEAR thee, ancient mariner!
I watch'd the water-snakes; guest feareth that
eth God's crea. a spirit is talking
fear thy skinny hand! [brown, They moved in tracks of shining tures of the great to him; And thou art long, and lank, and
white, As is the ribb'd sea-sand.*
And when they rear'd, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.
Within the shadow of the ship
Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, life, and proceed. This body dropt not down. eth to relate bis
They coild and swam; and every horrible pegance. Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Was a flash of golden fire.
Their beauty and
Their beauty might declare;
A spring of love gushd from my
He blesseth them
Sure my kind saint took pity on me,
And I bless'd them unaware. And envieth that I look'd upon the rotting sea, they should live, And drew my eyes away;
The selfsame moment I could pray ;
The spell begins and so many lie
to break. dead.
I look'd upon the rotting deck, And from my neck so free
The albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea.
O SLEEP! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
and the sky,
The silly buckets on the deck, By grace of the
holy mother, the
ancient mariner I dreamt that they were fill'd with is refreshed with
rain. But the curre liv. The cold sweat melted from their limbs,
And when I awoke it rain'd. eye of the dead
Nor rot nor reek did they : [me
My garments all were dank;
Sure I had drunken in my dreams,
I moved, and could not feel my limbs:
I was so light-almost
And was a blessed ghost.
sounds and seeth
It did not come anear; In his loneliness The moving moon went up the sky,
strange sights and And nowhere did abide :
But with its sound it shook the sails, commotions in yearneth towards
the sky and the the journeying Softly she was going up,
That were so thin and sere. moon, and the
And a star or two beside stars that still so
The upper air burst into life! journ, yet still move opward ; and everywhere the blue sky belongs to them, and is their appointed rest, and their pative country and their | And a hundred fire-flags sheen, own natural home, wbich they enter unannounced, as lords that are To and fro they were hurried about ! certainly expected, and yet there is a silent joy at their arrival.
And to and fro, and in and out,
The wan stars danced between.
loud, autumn of 1797, that this poem was planned, and in part
And the sails did sigh like sedge; coinposed,
eth for him in the
and firedness be