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(1772-1834 / Devon / England)

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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 there 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
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.

Submitted: Monday, May 14, 2001


Read poems about / on: river, romantic, ocean, music, war, woman, tree, hair, moon, song, green, sea, running, dance, women

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Comments about this poem (Aplolgia Pro Vita Sua by Samuel Taylor Coleridge )

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  • * Sunprincess * (11/9/2013 7:37:00 AM)

    This is a true masterpiece, even the title The Sacred River would fit this poem perfectly..
    I read this and was entranced with the river and the rocks, I felt as if I was trying to cross from an embankment at the edge of the river. At the most shallow location I could find and carefully making my way to the other side. Stepping on the river rocks and being very careful not to slip or fall.
    This poem is a pleasure to read :)

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Kevin Patrick (11/9/2012 10:54:00 PM)

    years ago I had a collection of romantic and victorian poetry this poem was in it, when I read it I could not help but think how similar it was to the lyrics to the RUSH song of the same name, and then I realized Neal Peart stolle it almost verbatum from this. Well he stole a masterful poem and turned it into a well crafted song. But Rime of the ancient Mariner is still the best work Coleridge EVER wrote

  • Paul Brookes (11/9/2012 6:49:00 AM)

    For once I agree with Mr Straw's assessment of this poem and of the Romantics too. The poem certainly resonates if imperfect, of the poets feeling on nature etc, and better by half than some of todays bleeding heart poetry which frankly is self indulgent and far to egocentric, with little beauty or poetic line to recommend it.

  • Shahzia Batool (11/9/2012 2:02:00 AM)

    Pieces with Surrealistic suggestions can never be completed, and therein lies their intrinsic beauty -
    the charm of the poem advocates that it is conceived and composed by one who on honey-dew hath fed and drunk the milk of paradise...

  • Cameren Lee (1/20/2012 8:47:00 PM)

    This is a milestone in poetry, and not only because of its influence on psychedelia [I, for the record, discovered this poem upon learning that it was the influence for the classic Rush song/epic Xanadu. That may sabotage my credibility here, but at least I'm being honest.]. The Abyssinian maid really hit me personally.

  • Cs Vishwanathan (11/9/2010 5:29:00 AM)

    I concur with most of what Straw and Fraser say, particularly with these romanticists being masters of their craft. The mastery of craft itself is a measure of the poet's talent and genius. Coleridge, s corpus was amazingly uneven. Only in three or four poems his genius finds full expression - 'Kubla Khan' being one of them. Its last two verses give it a kind of closure and completeness which makes it a fully formed poem by itself despite the interruption by the 'man from Porlock'. Coleridge's poetry straddles Wordsworth's nature mysticism (romanticism?) and the world-well-lost romantic bravura of Shelly and Keats. He also foreshadows pre-Raphaelites. He also had in abundance what can only be called the dulcet measure of mellifluousness. Only Swinburne matches him in this. This quality of his poetry makes it live for us even now.
    sure

  • Ramesh T A (11/9/2009 10:49:00 AM)

    This is my all time favourite poem of Coleridge! It is the expression of his dream without any correction! Though it was stopped by some intruder it has become a complete piece of its own accord! Only few poets can do this magic!

  • Kevin Straw (11/9/2009 6:08:00 AM)

    Is it not a mystery how some poets can pack into a few words an energy that makes those words resound to every generation that reads them? This poem is a magnificent failure, but head and shoulders above many a mundane success. My only problem with the Romantic movement is that many poets have taken its message to be 'whatever you write is poetry if it's about your feelings'. Blake, Keats, Coleridge etc were masters of their craft - not just self-indulgent babblers using words to make a vague stab at describing what they feel.

  • Ian Fraser (2/6/2009 3:43:00 PM)

    This superb poem has had an influence across the centuries on many generations of the young, most notably upon the 'pychedelic' movement of the 1960s and is a perfect example of the style of writing of the Romantic movement with its exotic setting and grandiose, visionary style. There is a strong surreal element in it and indeed it is said that Coleridge did in fact write it under the influence of opium. It is also generally regarded as unfinished and there is a funny story attached to that. It is said that while he was writing, he was interrupted by a visitor from Porlock, a nearby village. When he returned to his desk he could no longer remember what he was going to write. Since then the phrase 'persons from Porlock' has come to mean irritating visitors who distract us from what we were doing. Despite this, many people like the way the poem ends with the wild image of the priestly mage who 'hath drunk the milk of paradise'.The whole poem has a lawless, uncontrolled feel about, though in fact it is written in a very strict classical meter, the iambic tetrameter, with a complex formal scheme of rhyme.. It is this contrast between the wild and ungovernable on the one hand and the classical on the other that gives the best writing of this period so much of its particular flavor. It is, however, quite easy to parody this style and I came across one young reader who thought it was something from Dungeons and Dragons!

  • Ramesh T A (11/9/2008 1:43:00 AM)

    Wonderful poem I cherish most in my mind and cannot forget Coleridge forever due to the ex temporary expression of this dream poetry of the great romantic poet of UK!

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