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
From 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 sympathy and song,

To such a deep delight 'twould win me,

That with music loud and long,

I would build that dome in air,

Songs of
Fancy

Songs of That sunny dome!

Those caves of ice!

Fancy And all who heard should see them there,

And all should cry, Beware! Beware!

His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

SAMUEL TAYLOR COLEridge.

The Magic Car Moved On

The Fairy and the Soul proceeded;
The silver clouds disparted;
And, as the car of magic they ascended,
Again the speechless music swelled,
Again the coursers of the air.

Unfurled their azure pennons, and the Queen,
Shaking the beamy reins,

Bade them pursue their way.

The magic car moved on.

The night was fair, and countless stars
Studded heaven's dark-blue vault,-

The eastern wave grew pale
With the first smile of morn.

The magic car moved on.
From the celestial hoofs

The atmosphere in flaming sparkles flew;

And, where the burning wheels
Eddied above the mountain's loftiest peak,
Was traced a line of lightning.

Now far above a rock, the utmost verge
Of the wide earth, it flew-

The rival of the Andes, whose dark brow
Loured o'er the silver sea.

Far far below the chariot's path,
Calm as a slumbering babe,
Tremendous Occan lay.

The mirror of its stillness showed
The pale and waning stars,
The chariot's fiery track,
And the grey light of morn
Tingeing those fleecy clouds

That cradled in their folds the infant dawn.
The chariot seemed to fly

Through the abyss of an immense concave,
Radiant with million constellations, tinged
With shades of infinite colour,

And semicircled with a belt
Flashing incessant meteors.

The magic car moved on.

As they approached their goal,

The coursers seemed to gather speed.
The sea no longer was distinguished; earth

Songs of

Fancy

Songs of
Fancy

Appeared a vast and shadowy sphere;
The sun's unclouded orb

Rolled through the black concave;
Its rays of rapid light

Parted around the chariot's swifter course,
And fell like ocean's feathery spray
Dashed from the boiling surge

Before a vessel's prow.

The magic car moved on.

Earth's distant orb appeared

The smallest light that twinkles in the heavens
Whilst round the chariot's way

Innumerable systems rolled,

And countless spheres diffused
An ever-varying glory.
It was a sight of wonder: some
Were horned like the crescent moon;
Some shed a mild and silver beam

Like Hesperus o'er the western sea;

Some dashed athwart with trains of flame,

Like worlds to death and ruin driven;

Some shone like stars, and, as the chariot passed,
Bedimmed all other light.

66

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY.

From Queen Mab."

Arethusa

Arethusa arose

From her couch of snows

In the Acroceraunian mountains,

From cloud and from crag,

With many a jag,

Shepherding her bright fountains.
She leapt down the rocks.

With her rainbow locks
Streaming among the streams;

Her steps paved with green
The downward ravine
Which slopes to the western gleams:
And gliding and springing,
She went, ever singing,

In murmurs as soft as sleep;

The Earth seemed to love her,

And Heaven smiled above her,

As she lingered towards the deep.

Then Alpheus bold,

On his glacier cold,

With his trident the mountains strook

And opened a chasm

In the rocks;-with the spasm

All Erymanthus shook.

And the black south wind

It concealed behind

Songs of
Fancy