Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in the tumult to a lifeless ocean: And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far 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 And on her dulcimer she played, 40 To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, And all should cry, Beware! Beware! (1816) ON FIRST LOOKING INTO CHAPMAN'S HOMER JOHN KEATS [Keats had not had the advantage of a classical education; in this sonnet he records one of the episodes of intellectual awakening which he owed to friends who introduced him to the classics in translation.] Much have I travel'd in the realms of gold, And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; Round many western islands have I been [The title means "Vision of Death." In his collected poems Bryant adds the words: "Writ ten in the poet's eighteenth year."] To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit, and sad images 10 Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart; Go forth, under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings, while from all around Yet not to thine eternal resting-place Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world—with kings, The powerful of the earth—the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,-the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods-rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, 42 Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,- Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings-yet the dead are there: And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep-the dead reign there alone. So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw In silence from the living, and no friend Take note of thy departure? All that breathe 60 Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee. As the long train Of ages glides away, the sons of men, The youth in life's fresh spring, and he who goes In the full strength of years, matron and maid, The speechless babe, and the gray-headed THE AMERICAN FLAG JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE When Freedom from her mountain height And set the stars of glory there. Who rear'st aloft thy regal form, 10 When strive the warriors of the storm, And rolls the thunder-drum of heavenChild of the sun! to thee 'tis given To guard the banner of the free, To hover in the sulphur smoke, To ward away the battle-stroke, And bid its blendings shine afar, Like rainbows on the cloud of war, The harbingers of victory! 20 Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly, Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall, 50 |