KUBLA KHAN. In Xanadu did Kubla Khan Through caverns measureless to man, So twice five miles of fertile ground Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the hills, But oh! that deep romantic chasm, which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! As if this carth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced, Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, ever It flung up momently the sacred river. ran- Then reached the caverns measureless to man, The shadow of the dome of pleasure It was a miracle of rare device- I was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 't would win mo I would build that dome in air- SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE RAVEN. ONCE, upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door: "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door— Only this, and nothing more." Ah, distinctly I remember! it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had tried to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost Lenore For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore Nameless here for evermore. And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrora never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, Not the least obeisance made he; not an inI stood repeating, stant stopped or stayed he; "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above chamber door my chamber door Some late visitor entreating entrance at my Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door;— chamber doorPerched, and sat, and nothing more. This it is, and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy then no longer, into smiling, "Sir," said I," or madam, truly your forgive- By the grave and stern decorum of the counness I implore; tenance it wore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, you came rapping, thou," I said, "art sure no craven— And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering my chamber door, from the nightly shoreThat I scarce was sure I heard you,"-here | Tell me what thy lordly name is on the night's I opened wide the door: Plutonian shore!" Quoth the raven "Nevermore." Darkness there, and nothing more! Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood | Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear there wondering, fearing, discourse so plainly— Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever Though its answer little meaning, little rcledared to dream before; vancy bore; But the silence was unbroken, and the dark- For we cannot help agreeing that no living ness gave no token, human being And the only word there spoken was the Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above whispered word, "Lenore!" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word "Lenore!" Merely this, and nothing more. his chamber door Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as "6 Nevermore." Then into the chamber turning, all my soul But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid within me burning, bust, spoke only Soon I heard again a tapping, somewhat That one word, as if his soul in that one word louder than before: "Surely," said I, "surely that is something Nothing farther then he uttered-not a at my window lattice; feather then he fluttered he did outpour. friends have flown before Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other mystery exploreLet my heart be still a moment, and this mys- On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes tery explore ;have flown before." Then the bird said "Nevermore." 'Tis the wind, and nothing more!" Open here I flung the shutter, when, with Startled at the stillness broken by reply so many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore; aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store Caught from some unhappy master, whom | Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert unmerciful disaster land enchanted, Followed fast and followed faster, till his On this home by horror haunted-tell me songs one burden boretruly, I implore Till the dirges of his hope the melancholy Is there is there balm in Gilead? tell meburden bore tell me, I implore!" Quoth the raven, Of 'Never-Nevermore."" "Nevermore." But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul "Prophet ! " said I, "thing of evil!—prophet into smiling, still, if bird or devil! Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front By that heaven that bends above us God we both adore -by that of bird, and bust and door; Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook my- Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the self to linking distant Aidenn, Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the anbird of yoregels name Lenore— What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore." angels name Lenore." Quoth the raven, "Nevermore." "Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting "Get thee back into the tempest and the night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken!-quit the Take thy beak from out my heart, and take And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamplight, o'er him streaming, throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted-nevermore! EDGAR ALLAN POR For your father's on the hill, and your And sinking one by one, like lark-notes from mother is asleep; Come up above the crags, and we'll dance a highland reel Around the fairy thorn on the steep." At Anna Grace's door 't was thus the maidens cried, the sky When the falcon's shadow saileth across the open shaw, Are hush'd the maidens' voices, as cowering down they lie In the flutter of their sudden awe. Three merry maidens fair, in kirtles of the For, from the air above, and the grassy green; And Anna laid the sock and the weary wheel aside, The fairest of the four, I ween. They 're glancing through the glimmer of the quiet eve, Away in milky wavings of neck and ankle bare; The heavy-sliding stream in its sleepy song they leave, And the crags in the ghostly air; And linking hand in hand, and singing as they go, The maids along the hill-side have ta'en their fearless way, Till they come to where the rowan trees in lovely beauty grow Beside the Fairy Hawthorn gray. The hawthorn stands between the ashes tall and slim, Like matron with her twin grand-daughters at her knee; The rowan berries cluster o'er her low head gray and dim In ruddy kisses sweet to see. ground beneath, And from the mountain-ashes and the old white thorn between, A power of faint enchantment doth through their beings breathe, And they sink down together on the green. 7 They sink together, silent, and stealing side by side, They fling their lovely arms o'er their drooping necks so fair, Then vainly strive again their naked arms to hide, For their shrinking necks again are bare. Thus clasp'd and prostrate all, with thei heads together bow'd, Soft o'er their bosoms beating-the only human sound They hear the silky footsteps of the silent fairy crowd, Like a river in the air, gliding round. Nor scream can any raise, nor prayer can any say, But wild, wild, the terror of the speechless three, For they feel fair Anna Grace drawn silently away, By whom they dare not look to see. They feel their tresses twine with her parting locks of gold, And the curls elastic falling, as her head withdraws; I awoke from sleep, I awoke from sleep, For heavy on their senses the faint enchant- The stars were yellow, the moon was red; ment lies And I walked along all white and thin, Through all that night of anguish and And lifted the latch and entered in, perilous amaze; And reached the chamber as dark as night, And neither fear nor wonder can ope their And though it was dark my face was white. quivering eyes แ Mother, mother, I look on thee! Or their limbs from the cold ground raise. Mother, mother, you frighten me! For your cheeks are thin, and your hair is gray!" Till out of night the earth has rolled her dewy side, With every haunted mountain and streamy vale below; When, as the mist dissolves in the yellow morning-tide, The maidens' trance dissolveth so. But I smiled, and kissed her fears away, Then fly the ghastly three as swiftly as they And she went to sleep, she went to sleep. As we lay asleep, as we lay asleep, And I heard the cry of a little one, THE LEGEND OF THE STEPMOTHER. And I knew 't was the voice of Hugh my son : I. As I lay asleep, as I lay asleep, And I knew the voice of my daughter May: "Mother, mother, come hither to me! IV. I awoke from sleep, I awoke from sleep, |