Harte
Senior Member
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Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, revisited.
When the Khan into Xanadu came,
He figured that he'd up his game.
So a dome he decreed
and between you and me
the region was never the same.
His construct was ten miles across.
It was walls, with high towers embossed.
There rich earth was found
and beneath, underground,
The river called Alph turned and tossed.
Within he built gardens complete.
And his trees all had foliage sweet.
Also, naturally,
there were forest with trees
that were centuries old, in the least.
Access to the underground stream
could be had through a chasm serene.
Located within
the walls, and therein
could be found the idylls of a dream.
For the chasm so eldritch and cool,
led to Alph, flowing there like a jewel.
Here the Alph was quite wild
as by company riled
ere it ran, further down, to a pool.
At the base of the chasm the Khan
had the source of a fountain he spawned.
On his order, his men
forced the stream up, and then,
through the fountain like primeval dawn.
The water, on reaching the font,
bolted out of the top with a jaunt.
And great shapes did it make
While it quivered and quaked
through the air as it sprayed so gallant.
When the dance of the water was through,
the stream formed from it sweet as the dew.
And the Alph once again
on the surface it ran
for five miles,then was lost down a flue.
Those five miles, though, were filled with ethereal
scenes of bucolic material.
Ancient forests serene
and lush grasses of green
fit for such persons imperial.
So beloved did the Khan hold these scenes
that he went there quite often to dream.
Thereupon he did hear
sounds of voices quite near
and they came from the babbling stream.
Voices both ancient and faint
a horrible future did paint.
It were war they foresaw
as they came from the maw
of the chasm so charming and quaint.
The Khan the sounds put in a dream
as he listened there next to the stream.
His dome it did float
near the shore like a boat
on a sea that the alph fed, it seemed.
Put in mind an Abyssinian maid
that for Khan had the dulcimer played.
He wished he could recall
the song that enthralled
him. Her beauty, though, never would fade.
"With music of that sort," he mused,
"my pleasure-dome gardens infused"
"they would float in the air
like that fair maiden's hair
And forever in it I'd recluse."
At this with one thought he was struck.
If a stranger should have enough luck
to stumble on his dream scene
quaking fear he would glean
from the vision of glory amok.
As warning, all strangers would cry
"Beware the cold flash of his eye!
And his wild flowing hair!"
And everyone there
would cast spells of protection, or die.
Thrice round him the pagans would weave
circles profane and then grieve
for their lack of such stature,
and unreachable rapture
so palpable, never achieved.
Harte
When the Khan into Xanadu came,
He figured that he'd up his game.
So a dome he decreed
and between you and me
the region was never the same.
His construct was ten miles across.
It was walls, with high towers embossed.
There rich earth was found
and beneath, underground,
The river called Alph turned and tossed.
Within he built gardens complete.
And his trees all had foliage sweet.
Also, naturally,
there were forest with trees
that were centuries old, in the least.
Access to the underground stream
could be had through a chasm serene.
Located within
the walls, and therein
could be found the idylls of a dream.
For the chasm so eldritch and cool,
led to Alph, flowing there like a jewel.
Here the Alph was quite wild
as by company riled
ere it ran, further down, to a pool.
At the base of the chasm the Khan
had the source of a fountain he spawned.
On his order, his men
forced the stream up, and then,
through the fountain like primeval dawn.
The water, on reaching the font,
bolted out of the top with a jaunt.
And great shapes did it make
While it quivered and quaked
through the air as it sprayed so gallant.
When the dance of the water was through,
the stream formed from it sweet as the dew.
And the Alph once again
on the surface it ran
for five miles,then was lost down a flue.
Those five miles, though, were filled with ethereal
scenes of bucolic material.
Ancient forests serene
and lush grasses of green
fit for such persons imperial.
So beloved did the Khan hold these scenes
that he went there quite often to dream.
Thereupon he did hear
sounds of voices quite near
and they came from the babbling stream.
Voices both ancient and faint
a horrible future did paint.
It were war they foresaw
as they came from the maw
of the chasm so charming and quaint.
The Khan the sounds put in a dream
as he listened there next to the stream.
His dome it did float
near the shore like a boat
on a sea that the alph fed, it seemed.
Put in mind an Abyssinian maid
that for Khan had the dulcimer played.
He wished he could recall
the song that enthralled
him. Her beauty, though, never would fade.
"With music of that sort," he mused,
"my pleasure-dome gardens infused"
"they would float in the air
like that fair maiden's hair
And forever in it I'd recluse."
At this with one thought he was struck.
If a stranger should have enough luck
to stumble on his dream scene
quaking fear he would glean
from the vision of glory amok.
As warning, all strangers would cry
"Beware the cold flash of his eye!
And his wild flowing hair!"
And everyone there
would cast spells of protection, or die.
Thrice round him the pagans would weave
circles profane and then grieve
for their lack of such stature,
and unreachable rapture
so palpable, never achieved.
Harte