I
THE DREAM
A stately pleasure-dome decree;
It vanished or ever it began:
A singer glimpsed it in a vision
And then the miracle of rare device,
The sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice,
The greenery enfolded spots, the fields elysian,
Sank to a sunless sea.
The sighs of mourners breathe across the courts
And faint along the aisles of Xanadu;
The lost, the lost is found, the vision lives again,
But, sweet and fleeting, vanishes anew.
Oh swarthy-golden walls and tawny towers,
Girt with green trees and mauve and amber flowers;
Oh waters in the gardens where you play,
Flowing down from ancient rivers:
Alph, and four that freshened Eden
Once, an elder day!
How my willing heart receives you!
Now again my soul believes you,
Certain you will stay.
