| 1 | KUBLA KHAN |
| 2 | 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 . |
| 3 | 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 . |
| 4 | 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 ! |
| 5 | 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 . |
| 6 | 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 ! |
| 7 | The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves ; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves . |
| 8 | It was a miracle of rare device , A sunny pleasure - dome with caves of ice ! |
| 9 | 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 . |
| 10 | Could I revive within me Her symphony and song , To such a deep delight 't would win me , That with music loud and long , I would build that dome in air , That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! |
| 11 | 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 . |
| 12 | 1798 |