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It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
About the Shark, phlegmatical one,
Pale sot of the Maldive sea,
The sleek little pilot-fish, azure and slim,
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
That night your great guns, unawares,
Shook all our coffins as we lay,
And broke the chancel window-squares,
Often beneath the wave, wide from this ledge
The dice of drowned men’s bones he saw bequeath
An embassy. Their numbers as he watched,
God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
Or, a vision in a dream. A Fragment.
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
I am — yet what I am none cares or knows;
My friends forsake me like a memory lost:
I am the self-consumer of my woes —
O my Luve is like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve is like the melody
The sea is calm tonight.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
