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.