All thoughts, all paficons, all delights,
All, all that stirs this mortal frame.

are

but ministers

Love.

"And fan his sacred flame.

The moonshine stealing ver the scene.

Had blended with the light of Eve;

my Joy,

own dear Genevieve!

The lean' against the armed man,
The statue of the armed Knight;
She stood and listen'd to my Harp
Amid the lingering Light.

I play's a soft and dolefuil air,

sang.

an

old and moving Hory:

And old rude song that fitted well.
The ruin wild and hoary.

MS. of the opening stanzas of "Love"

KUBLA KHAN.

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure-dome decree :
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground

With walls and towers were girdled round.

And here were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!

A savage place! as holy and enchanted

As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted

By woman wailing for her demon-lover!

And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced;

Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst

Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail :
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war.

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves ;
Where was heard the mingled measure
Of the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer

In a vision once I saw ;

It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,

Singing of Mount Abora.

Could I revive within me

Her symphony and song,

To such deep delight 'twould win me,
That with music loud and long,

I would build that dome in air,

That sunny dome! those caves of ice! And all who heard should see them there,

And all should cry Beware! Beware!

His flashing eyes! his floating hair!

brbilins

of

I wall romander of Jenny Bowyer, the plagose

Christi Hospital, but an admirable Educer

Than

Educator of the Intellect, bad me leave out as many epithets as
won't harm the whole inti & syllable Lines of then ask myself, if
the Exercise
would not be greatly improved.. How thing heaping
I thought of this proposal since then If has many
I read that by this process would have

excellently.

same occase

hipervise I remember that he told me on the

Coleridges the connections of a Declamation are

not the Fransitions of Poetry; bed, however, as

they

they ari

are, they

better than a frustrophes and others for at the worst they

like common sonsern. The Move are

somethey

of Lunacy.

any." - 5.7. Colange

A

Extract from a Diary of S. T. Coleridge

To day! To day.

An unpublished poem by S. T. Coleridge. In the possession of E. H. Coleridge, Esq.