Good sappy bavins that kindle forthwith; Billets that blaze substantial and slow; Pine-stump split deftly, dry as pith; Larch-heart that chars to a chalk-white glow; Then up they hoist me John in a chafe, Sling him fast like a hog to scorch, Spit in his face, then leap back safe, Sing 'Laudes' and bid clap-to the torch. (BROWNING: _The Heretic's Tragedy._) 'Will sprawl, now that the heat of day is best, Flat on his belly in the pit's much mire, With elbows wide, fists clenched to prop his chin. And, while he kicks both feet in the cool slush, And feels about his spine small eft-things course, Run in and out each arm, and make him laugh:... He looks out o'er yon sea which sunbeams cross And recross till they weave a spider-web. (BROWNING: _Caliban upon Setebos._) Master of the murmuring courts Where the shapes of sleep convene! Lo! my spirit here exhorts All the powers of thy demesne For their aid to move my queen. What reports Yield thy jealous courts unseen? Vaporous, unaccountable, Dreamland lies forlorn of light, Hollow like a breathing shell. Ah! that from all dreams I might Choose one dream and guide its flight! I know well What her sleep should tell to-night. (ROSSETTI: _Love's Nocturn._) When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces, The mother of months, in meadow or plain, Fills the shadows and windy places With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain. (SWINBURNE: Chorus in _Atalanta in Calydon._) Till, as with clamor Of axe and hammer, Chained streams that stammer and struggle in straits, Burst bonds that shiver, And thaws deliver The roaring river in stormy spates. (SWINBURNE: _Winter in Northumberland._) 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 reach'd the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean. (COLERIDGE: _Kubla Khan._) FOOTNOTES: