The Night Mail and Other Poems

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Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:

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And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever

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It flung up momently the sacred river.

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Five miles meandering with a mazy motion

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Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,

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Then reached the caverns measureless to man,

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And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:

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And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far

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Ancestral voices prophesying war!

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The shadow of the dome of pleasure

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Floated midway on the waves;

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Where was heard the mingled measure

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From the fountain and the caves.

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It was a miracle of rare device,

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A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!