In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, The mariner tells The sun came up upon the left, how the ship sail. ed southward Out of the sea came he! with a good wind And he shone bright, and on the right Whiles all the night, through fog and fair weather, Went down into the sea. till it reached the line. Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon smoke white, Glimmer'd the white moonshine. "God save thee, ancient mariner! The wedding-guest here beat his From the fiends that plague thee thus! breast, For he heard the loud bassoon. Why look'st thou so?"-With my bird of good cross-bow I shot the ALBATROSS. PART II. THE sun now rose upon the right: Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. And the good south wind still blew But no sweet bird did follow, He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And I had done an hellish thing, With sloping masts and dripping prow, And it would work 'em wo: omen. His shipmates cry out against the ancient mariner, for killing the bird of good-luck. The ship drove fast, loud roar'd the Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, But when the fog And now there came both mist and That brought the fog and mist. snow, And it grew wondrous cold; 'Twas right, said they, such birds to crime. slay And ice, mast-high, came floating by, That bring the fog and mist. 'Twas sad as sad could be ; And we did speak only to break It crack'd and growl'd, and roar'd and The silence of the sea! howl'd, Like noises in a swound! At length did cross an albatross: through the snow As if it had been a Christian soul, fog, and was received with great joy and hospitality. We hail'd it in God's name. It ate the food it ne'er had eat, All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the moon. Day after day, day after day, Water, water, everywhere, The very deep did rot: O Christ! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs been suddenly becalmed. And the albatross begins to be avenged. And every tongue, through utter How fast she nears and nears! drought, Was wither'd at the root; We could not speak, no more than if Like restless gossamers? We had been choked with soot. The shipmates, in Ah! well-a-day! what evil looks would fain throw Had I from old and young! their sore distress the whole guilt on Instead of the cross, the albatross About my neck was hung. the ancient mariner;-in sign whereof they hang the dead sea-bird round his neck. The ancient ma riner beholdeth a sign in the ele. ment afar off. PART III. THERE pass'd a weary time. Each throat Was parch'd, and glazed each eye. At first it seem'd a little speck It moved and moved, and took at last A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! At its nearer ap- With throats unslaked, with black proach, it seem eth him to be a ship; and at a We could nor laugh nor wail; dear ransom he from the bonds of thirst. A flash of joy. stood; I bit my arm, I suck'd the blood, but the skeleton of a ship. The steersman's face by his lamp With throats unslaked, with black From the sails the dew did drip lips baked, Agape they heard me call; And horror fol- See! see! (I cried,) she tacks no lows; for can it be a ship, that comes onward without wind or tide? Hither to work us weal; Without a breeze, without a tide, The western wave was all a flame, Till clomb above the eastern bar The horned moon, with one bright star Within the nether tip. the moon, But Life-in-Death The souls did from their bodies fly,- Her beams bemock'd the sultry main, begins her work the ancient They fled to bliss or wo! on And thou art long, and lank, and As is the ribb'd sea-sand.* "I fear thee and thy glittering eye, And thy skinny hand so brown." Like April hoar-frost spread; But where the ship's huge shadow lay, The charmed water burnt alway Within the shadow of the ship But the ancient Fear not, fear not, thou wedding-I watch'd their rich attire; mariner assureth him of his bodily guest! life, and proceed. This body dropt not down. eth to relate his horrible penance. Alone, alone, all, all alone, And never a saint took pity on 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 closed my lids, and kept them close, Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coil'd and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire. O happy living things! no tongue A spring of love gush'd from my heart, And I bless'd them unaware: The selfsame moment I could pray; PART V. O SLEEP! it is a gentle thing, To Mary queen the praise be given ! For the sky and the sea, and the sea That slid into my soul. and the sky, Lay like a load on my weary eye But the curse liv. The cold sweat melted from their eth for him in the eye of the dead men. limbs, The silly buckets on the deck, That had so long remain'd, calm. Their beauty and their happiness. He blesseth them in his heart. The spell begins to break. By grace of the holy mother, the ancient mariner I dreamt that they were fill'd with is refreshed with dew; And when I awoke it rain'd. My lips were wet, my throat was cold, An orphan's curse would drag to hell And still my body drank. rain. He heareth sounds and seeth strange sights and But with its sound it shook the sails, commotions in The upper air burst into life! And the sails did sigh like sedge; the sky and the element. And the rain pour'd down from one It ceased; yet still the sails made on black cloud; The moon was at its edge. A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, The thick black cloud was cleft, and That to the sleeping woods all night Under the keel nine fathom deep, The sun, right up above the mast, The helmsman steer'd, the ship moved Backwards and forwards half her nor by dæmons of Be calm, thou wedding-guest: length With a short uneasy motion. Then like a pawing horse let go, And I fell down in a swound. How long in that same fit I lay, "Is it he?" quoth one, "is this the man? earth or middle 'Twas not those souls that filed in By Him who died on cross, air, but by a blessed troop of angelic spirits, pain, Which to their corses came again, sent down by the But a troop of spirits blest: invocation of the guardian saint. For when it dawn'd-they dropp'd their arms, And cluster'd round the mast; Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths, And from their bodies pass'd. Around, around, flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the sun; Sometimes, a-drooping from the sky, With their sweet jargoning! And now 'twas like all instruments, With his cruel bow he laid full low The harmless albatross. "The spirit who bideth by himself The other was a softer voice, And penance more will do." PART VI. FIRST VOICE. BUT tell me, tell me! speak again, SECOND VOICE. Still as a slave before his lord, His great bright eye most silently Up to the moon is cast The polar spirit's fellow dæmons, the invisible inhabitants of the element, take part in his wrong; and two of them relate, one to the other, that penance long and heavy for the ancient mariner hath been accorded to the polar spirit, who returneth southward. That stands above the rock: Fly, brother, fly! more high, more The moonlight steep'd in silentness, high! The steady weathercock. Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat; A man all light, a seraph-man, the curse, with which they On every corse there stood. The pang, died, Had never pass'd away: I could not draw my eyes from theirs, The curse is final. And now the spell was snapt: once ly expiated. more I view'd the ocean green, And look'd far forth, yet little saw Of what had else been seen Like one, that on a lonesome road on, And turns no more his head; Because he knows a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread. This seraph band, each waved his hand: It was a heavenly sight! They stood as signals to the land, This seraph band, each waved his hand, No voice did they impart- But soon I heard the dash of oars, But soon there breathed a wind on me, The pilot and the pilot's boy, Nor sound nor motion made: Its path was not upon the sea, It raised my hair, it fann'd my cheek And the ancient O! dream of joy! is this, indeed, mariner beholdeth his native country. The light-house top I see? Is this the hill? is this the kirk? Is this my own countrée ? I heard them coming fast: Dear Lord in heaven! it was a joy The dead men could not blast. I saw a third-I heard his voice: He singeth loud his godly hymns He'll shrive my soul, he'll wash away PART VII. And appear in their own forms of light. |