Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding Oft in my waking dreams do I hail,

Live o'er again that happy hour, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail: When midway on the mount I lay, And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and Beside the ruined tower.


[blocks in formation]


It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion

25 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

Ancestral voices prophesying war! 30

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 symphony and song,

To such a 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!
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.

I played a soft and doleful air,
I sang an old and moving story –
An old rude song, that suited well

That ruin wild and hoary.



She listened with a fitting blush,
With downcast eyes and modest grace;
For well she knew, I could not choose

But gaze upon her face.

[blocks in formation]


[blocks in formation]



All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,
All are but ministers of Love,

And feed his sacred flame.

But when I told the cruel scorn
That crazed that bold and lovely Knight,
And that he crossed the mountain-woods,

Nor rested day nor night;

[blocks in formation]

And that she nursed him in a cave; And how his madness went away, When on the yellow forest-leaves

A dying man he lay ;

His dying words — but when I reached 65
That tenderest strain of all the ditty,
My faltering voice and pausing harp

Disturbed her soul with pity!


[blocks in formation]

Ye clouds! that far above me float and

pause, Whose pathless march no mortal may

control! Ye Ocean-Waves! that, wheresoe'er ye

roll, Yield homage only to eternal laws! Ye Woods! that listen to the nightbirds

singing, Midway the smooth and perilous slope

reclined, Save when your own imperious branches

swinging, Have made a solemn music of the

wind! Where, like a man beloved of God, Through glooms, which never woodman


How oft, pursuing fancies holy, My moonlight way o'er flowering weeds

I wound,

Inspired, beyond the guess of folly, By each rude shape and wild unconquer

able sound!

[blocks in formation]


[blocks in formation]







and gory


loud Waves! and O


Forests high!

"And what," I said, “though Blasphemy's And Oye Clouds that far above me

loud scream soared!

With that sweet music of deliverance Thou rising Sun! thou blue rejoicing Sky!

strove! Yea, everything that is and will be

Though all the fierce and drunken pasfree!

sions wove Bear witness for me, wheresoe'er ye be,

A dance more wild than e'er was maniac's With what deep worship I have still

dream! adored

Ye storms, that round the dawning
The spirit of divinest Liberty.

East assembled,
The Sun was rising, though ye hid his


And when to soothe my soul, that hoped When France in wrath her giant-limbs

and trembled, upreared,

The dissonance ceased, and all seemed And with that oath which smote air,

calm and bright; earth and sea,

When France her front deep-scarred Stamped her strong foot and said she would be free,

Concealed with clustering wreaths of Bear witness for me, how I hoped and

glory; feared!

When insupportably advancing, With what a joy my lofty gratulation

Her arm made mockery of the warUnawed I sang, amid a slavish band:

rior's ramp; And when to whelm the disenchanted na

While timid looks of fury glancing, 55 tion,

Domestic treason, crushed beneath her Like fiends embattled by a wizard's

fatal stamp, wand,

Writhed like a wounded dragon in his The Monarchs marched in evil day, 30

gore; And Britain joined the dire array;

Then I reproached my fears that would Though dear her shores and circling

not Aee; ocean,

"And soon," I said, “shall Wisdom teach Though many friendships, many youth

her lore ful loves

In the low huts of them that toil and Had swoln the patriot emotion

groan; And Aung a magic light o'er all her hills

And, conquering by her happiness alone, and groves;

Shall France compel the nations to be Yet still my voice, unaltered, sang defeat To all that braved the tyrant-quelling till Love' and Joy look round, and call



the earth their own.” And shame too long delayed and vain

retreat! For ne'er, O Liberty! with partial aim I dimmed thy light or damped thy holy Forgive me, Freedom! O forgive those flame;

dreams! But blessed the pæans of delivered I hear thy voice, I hear thy loud France,

lament, And hung my head and wept at Britain's From bleak Helvetia's icy name,








I hear thy groans upon her blood-stained

streams! Heroes, that for your peaceful country

perished, And ye, that fleeing, spot your mountain




Alike from all, howe'er they praise thee, (Nor prayer, nor boastful name delays

thee) Alike from Priestcraft's harpy min

ions, And factious Blasphemy's obscener


Thou speedest on thy subtle pinions, The guide of homeless winds, and play

mate of the waves! And there I felt thee! - on that sea-cliff's

verge, Whose pines, scarce travelled by the

breeze above, Had made one murmur with the distant

surge! Yes, while I stood and gazed, my temples

bare, And shot my being through earth, sea,

and air, Possessing all things with intensest love, O Liberty! my spirit felt thee


With bleeding wounds; forgive me, that

I cherished One thought that ever blessed your cruel

foes! To scatter rage and traitorous guilt Where Peace her jealous home had


A patriot-race to disinherit Of all that made their stormy wilds so dear;

75 And with inexpiable spirit To taint the bloodless freedom of the

mountaineer O France, that mockest Heaven, adul

terous, blind, And patriot only in pernicious toils! Are these thy boasts, Champion of human

kind? To mix with Kings in the low lust of

sway, Yell in the hunt, and share the murderous

prey ; To insult the shrine of Liberty with spoils From freemen torn; to tempt and to









[blocks in formation]

The Frost performs its secret ministry, Unhelped by any wind. The owlet's cry Came loud - and hark, again! loud as

before. The inmates of my cottage, all at rest, Have left me to that solitude, which

suits Abstruser musings: save that at my side My cradled infant slumbers peacefully. 'Tis calm indeed! so calm, that it disturbs And vexes meditation with its strange And extreme silentness. Sea, hill, and

wood, This populous village! Sea, and hill, and

wood, With all the numberless goings-on of life, Inaudible as dreams! the thin blue flame Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers

not; Only that film which Auttered on the grate




[blocks in formation]







Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing. Dear Babe, that sleepest cradled by my Methinks, its motion in this hush of

side, nature

Whose gentle breathings, heard in this Gives it dim sympathies with me who live,

deep calm, Making it a companionable form,

Fill up the interspersed vacancies Whose puny Aaps and freaks the idling And momentary pauses of the thought! Spirit

My babe so beautiful! it thrills my heart By its own moods interprets, everywhere With tender gladness, thus to look at Echo or mirror seeking of itself,

thee, And makes a toy of Thought.

And think that thou shalt learn far other

lore, But O! how oft,

And in far other scenes! For I was How oft, at school, with most believing

reared mind,

In the great city, pent ’mid cloisters dim, Presageful, have I gazed upon the bars, 25 And saw nought lovely but the sky and To watch that fluttering stranger! and as

stars. oft

But thou, my babe! shalt wander like a With unclosed lids, already had I dreamt

breeze Of my sweet birth-place, and the old By lakes and sandy shores, beneath the church-tower,

crags Whose bells, the poor man's only music, Of ancient mountain, and beneath the rang

clouds, From morn to evening, all the hot Fair- Which image in their bulk both lakes and day,

shores So sweetly, that they stirred and haunted And mountain crags: so shalt thou see and

hear With a wild pleasure, falling on mine The lovely shapes and sounds intelligible

Of that eternal language, which thy Most like articulate sounds of things to

God come!

Utters, who from eternity doth teach So gazed I, till the soothing things I Himself in all, and all things in himself. dreamt

Great universal Teacher! he shall mould Lulled me to sleep, and sleep prolonged Thy spirit, and by giving make it ask.

my dreams! And so I brooded all the following morn, Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to Awed by the stern preceptor's face, mine

thee, eye

Whether the summer clothe the general Fixed with mock study on my swimming

earth book:

With greenness, or the redbreast sit and Save if the door half opened, and I

sing snatched

Betwixt the tufts of snow

on the bare A hasty glance, and still my heart leaped

branch up,

Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch For still I hoped to see the stranger's Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the face,

eave-drops fall Townsman, or aunt, or sister more be- Heard only in the trances of the blast, loved,

Or if the secret ministry of frost My play-mate when we both were clothed Shall hang them up in silent icicles, alike!

Quietly shining to the quiet Moon.








« 前へ次へ »