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Christabel: Kubla Khan, a Vision; The Pains of Sleep. - Scholar's Choice Edition
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
No preview available - 2015
ail the mastiff answer meet Bard Bracy Baron beneath bosom Bracy the bard breast Bulmer castle bell caverns measureless caves of ice cheek Cleveland-row cross'd the court daughter is safe dizzy trance dream dulcimer faint and sweet fair Geraldine father's feet fragment harp heard hour knell KUBLA KHAN lady Christabel lady Geraldine lamp Langdale large bright eyes line the accents lofty lady look look'd askance Lord Roland lovely lady's maiden mastiff bitch mastiff old moan moonshine mother music loud night is chill numerous array o'er her eyes old oak tree PAINS OF SLEEP palfrey pass'd pleasure-dome Porlock pray pray'd rill Roland de Vaux rose sacred river sacristan sank shudder'd sight sire soul spake words speak for weariness star hath Sweet Christabel sweet maid swell'd tell thine thou thought thro Thy only child tu—whoo turn'd uprais'd Vaux of Tryermaine vision ween wild words Sir Leoline youth
Page 56 - 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...
Page 32 - Each spake words of high disdain And insult to his heart's best brother : They parted — ne'er to meet again ! But never either found another To free the hollow heart from paining — They stood aloof, the scars remaining, Like cliffs which had been rent asunder; A dreary sea now flows between ; — But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder, Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once hath been.
Page 6 - To move away the ringlet curl From the lovely lady's cheek — There is not wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, That dances as often as dance it can, Hanging so light, and hanging so high, On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
Page 57 - 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.
Page 61 - ERE on my bed my limbs I lay, It hath not been my use to pray With moving lips or bended knees ; But silently, by slow degrees, My spirit I to Love compose, In humble trust mine eyelids close, With reverential resignation, No wish conceived, no thought exprest. Only a sense of supplication ; A sense o'er all my soul imprest That I am weak, yet not unblest, Since in me, round me, everywhere Eternal strength and wisdom are.
Page 22 - And see ! the lady Christabel Gathers herself from out her trance; Her limbs relax, her countenance Grows sad and soft; the smooth thin lids Close o'er her eyes; and tears she sheds — Large tears that leave the lashes bright! And oft the while she seems to smile As infants at a sudden light! Yea, she doth smile, and she doth weep, Like a youthful hermitess, Beauteous in a wilderness, Who, praying always, prays in sleep.
Page 7 - Her blue-veined feet unsandal'd were, And wildly glittered here and there The gems entangled in her hair. I guess, 'twas frightful there to see A lady so richly clad as she — Beautiful exceedingly! Mary mother, save me now! (Said Christabel,) And who art thou?
Page 44 - O, by the pangs of her dear mother Think thou no evil of thy child ! For her, and thee, and for no other, She prayed the moment ere she died: Prayed that the babe for whom she died, Might prove her dear lord's joy and pride!