OK, Doc Comfort, it is time for you to reach a new day.

The poem, bless your heart, is a mystical dream of the 19th century mind towards a land of the exotic, a romantic desire to escape the confines of a overly constructed puritan culture, but Coleridge, even subliminally, would never have stooped to the thoughts that you feel free to assign.

Re-read The Ancient Mariner, A project begun by the more-or-less straight-laced Wordsworth, then finished by Coleridge. Could this moralist be the lewdist you imagine?

I, Milum, challenge you, young Mr. Comfort, to a line-by -line duel. The only thing you have to lose in a contest like this is your virginity.