The ice was here, the ice was there, Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, It cracked and growled, and roar'd and howl'd, | And we did speak only to break At length did cross an Albatross : As if it had been a Christian soul, It ate the food it ne'er had eat, The ice did split with a thunder-fit ; The silence of the sea! All in a hot and copper sky, Right up above the mast did stand, Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion, Upon a painted ocean. And a good south-wind sprung up behind; Water, water, every where, The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, And all the boards did shrink; The very deep did rot: O Christ! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs About, about, in reel and rout And some in dreams assured were And every tongue, through utter drought, We could not speak, no more than if And the good south-wind still blew behind, Ah! well a-day! what evil looks But no sweet bird did follow, Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross And I had done an hellish thing, For all averred, I had killed the bird Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, Then all averred, I had killed the bird III. THERE passed a weary time. Each throat A weary time! a weary time! "Twas right, said they, such birds to slay, A something in the sky. That bring the fog and mist. The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, At first it seem'd a little speck, The furrow stream'd off free: We were the first that ever burst Into that silent sea. And then it seem'd a mist: It moved and moved, and took at last A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! With throat unslak'd, with black lips baked, We listen'd and look'd sideways up! The stars were dim, and thick the night, From the sails the dews did drip- The horned Moon, with one bright star One after one, by the star-dogg'd Moon With throat unslak'd, with black lips baked, Too quick for groan or sigh, And all at once their breath drew in, See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more! The western wave was all a-flame. And straight the Sun was flecked with bars, Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud) Are those her sails that glance in the Sun, Each turn'd his face with a ghastly pang, Four times fifty living men, The souls did from their bodies fly,-- IV. I FEAR thee, ancient Mariner! And thou art long, and lank, and brown, I fear thee and thy glittering eye, Are those her ribs through which the Sun This body dropt not down. Did peer, as through a grate? Is that a DEATH? and are there two? Her lips were red, her looks were free, The naked hulk alongside came, The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: Alone, alone, all, all alone, The many men, so beautiful! And a thousand thousand slimy things I look'd upon the rotting sea, I look'd upon the rotting deck, I look'd to Heaven, and tried to pray; I fear thee, ancient Mariner!- Is it he? quoth one, is this the man? With his cruel bow he laid full low, The spirit who bideth by himself For when it dawned-they dropped their In the land of mist and snow, Sometimes a-dropping from the sky How they seem'd to fill the sea and air And now 'twas like all instruments, And now it is an angel's song, It ceased; yet still the sails made on Till noon we quietly sailed on, Under the keel nine fathom deep, The sails at noon left off their tune, The Sun, right up above the mast, But in a minute she 'gan stir, He loved the bird that loved the man Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high! Backwards and forwards half her length, For slow and slow that ship will go, With a short uneasy motion. Then like a pawing horse let go, How long in that same fit I lay, When the Mariner's trance is abated. I woke, and we were sailing on "Twas night, calm night, the Moon was high; All stood together on the deck, The pang, the curse, with which they died, I could not draw my eyes from theirs, And now this spell was snapt: once more I viewed the ocean green, And looked far forth, yet little saw Like one, that on a lonesome road And, having once turn'd round, walks on, But soon there breathed a wind on me, It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed The light-house-top I see? Is this the hill? is this the kirk? Is this mine own countree? We drifted o'er the harbour-bar, The harbour-bay was clear as glass, So smoothly it was strewn! And on the bay the moonlight lay, And the shadow of the moon. The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, The moonlight steeped in silentness And the bay was white with silent light, Full many shapes, that shadows were, A little distance from the prow Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, A man all light, a seraph-man, This seraph-band, each waved his hand : They stood as signals to the land, This seraph-band, each waved his hand, No voice; but oh! the silence sank But soon I heard the dash of oars, The Pilot, and the Pilot's boy, I heard them coming fast: I saw a third-I heard his voice: He singeth loud his godly hymns He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away VII. THIS Hermit good lives in that wood He kneels at morn, and noon and eve- It is the moss that wholly hides The skiff-boat near'd: I heard them talk : Why this is strange, I trow! Where are those lights so many and fair, Strange, by my faith! the Hermit said- I never saw ought like to them, Brown skeletons of leaves that lag When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look— I am a-feared-Push on, push on! |