November 8, 2007

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

We are memorizing three poems this term for our Victorian Era study. The first is by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, one of my favorite poets.

Kubla Khan

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.
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.

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 :
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.
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 !
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
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
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.

We also will memorize William Wordsworth's Daffodils and John Keats, Last Sonnet.

1 comment:

JacciM said...

Hi, Carol :) I've never commented on your site before, so I'll introduce myself. I'm Jacci, 32 old mama to 4 little ones - my oldest is 6.5 and in Year One of AO (well, modified a little).

I came across your site while commenting at Mama Squirrel's, I mean Dewey's, Treehouse. I remember now that I've also seen it at the Homeschool Blog Awards. I'm looking forward to reading your posts. Sounds like you have a lot to offer a new CM mama like me :)

By the way, Wordsworth is one of my favorites. I have a small booklet of his poems that I use to read inbetween classes when I was in college. In the grass, of course. It seems like Wordsworth and Whitman should always be read outside:)