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My lips were wet, my throat was cold,
My garments all were dank;
Sure I had drunken in my dreams,
And still my body drank.

I moved, and could not feel my limbs:
I was so light-almost
I thought that I had died in sleep,
And was a blessed ghost.

He heareth
sounds and
seeth strange
sights and
in the sky and
the element

And soon I heard a roaring wind:
It did not come anear;
But with its sound it shook the sails,
That were so thin and sere.

The upper air burst into life!
And a hundred fire-flags sheen,
To and fro they were hurried about!
And to and fro, and in and out,
The wan stars danced between.

And the coming wind did roar more loud,
And the sails did sigh like sedge;
And the rain poured down from one black cloud;
The Moon was at its edge.

The thick black cloud was cleft, and still
The Moon was at its side:
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning fell with never a jag,
A river steep and wide.

The bodies of the ship's crew are in spired, and the ship moves on;

The loud wind never reached the ship,
Yet now the ship moved on!
Beneath the lightning and the Moon
The dead men gave a groan.
They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose,
Nor spake, nor moved their eyes;
It had been strange, even in a dream,
To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steered, the ship moved on;
Yet never a breeze up blew;
The mariners all 'gan work the ropes,
Where they were wont to do;
They raised their limbs like lifeless tools
We were a ghastly crew.

The body of my brother's son
Stood by me, knee to knee:
The body and I pulled at one rope
But he said nought to me.

“I fear thee, ancient Mariner !

But not by

the souls of Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest !

the men, nor 'Twas not those souls that fled in pain,

by dæmons of Which to their corses came again,

earth or mid

dle air, but But a troop of spirits blest:

by a blessed troop of an

gelic spirits, For when it dawned—they dropped their arms,

sent down by

the invocation And clustered round the mast;

of the guard. Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths, ian saint And from their bodies passed.

Around, around, flew each sweet sound,
Then darted to the Sun;
Slowly the sounds came back again,
Now mixed, now one by one.

Sometimes a-dropping from the sky
I heard the sky-lark sing;
Sometimes all little birds that are,
How they seemed to fill the sea and air
With their sweet jargoning !

And now 'twas like all instruments,
Now like a lonely Alute;
And now it is an angel's song,
That makes the heavens be mute.

It ceased; yet still the sails made on
A pleasant noise till noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night
Singeth a quiet tune.

Till noon we quietly sailed on,
Yet never a breeze did breathe:
Slowly and smoothly went the ship,
Moved onward from beneath.

The lonesome Under the keel nine fathom deep,
Spirit from the

From the land of mist and snow,
south-pole car.
ries on the The spirit slid: and it was he
ship as far as

That made the ship to go. the Line, in obedience to The sails at noon left off their tune, the angelic

And the ship stood still also.
troop, but still
vengeance The Sun, right up above the mast,

Had fixed her to the ocean:
But in a minute she 'gan stir,
With a short uneasy motion-
Backwards and forwards half her length
With a short uneasy motion.

Then like a pawing horse let go,
She made a sudden bound:
It flung the blood into my head,
And I fell down in a swound.

The Polar Spirit's fellow- How long in that same fit I lay,
dæmons, the invisible in. I have not to declare;
habitants of the element,
take part in his wrong;

But ere my living life returned,
and two of them relate, I heard and in my soul discerned
ó one to the other, that
penance long and heavy

Two voices in the air. for the ancient Mariner hath been accorded to the

* Is it he?" quoth one, “Is this the man? Polar Spirit, who return. eth southward

By him who died on cross,
With his cruel bow he laid full low
The harmless Albatross.

“The spirit who bideth by himself
In the land of mist and snow,
He loved the bird that loved the man
Who shot him with his bow."

The other was a softer voice,
As soft as honey-dew:
Quoth he, “ The man hath penance done,
And penance more will do."



“But tell me, tell me! speak again,
Thy soft response renewing-
What makes that ship drive on so fast?
What is the ocean doing?”


“Still as a slave before his lord,
The ocean hath no blast;
His great bright eye most silently
Up to the moon is cast-

“If he may know which way to go;
For she guides him smooth or grim.
See, brother, see! how graciously
She looketh down on him."


“But why drives on that ship so fast, Without or wave or wind?”

The Mariner hath been cast into a trance; for the angelic power causeth the vessel to drive northward faster than human life could endure


The air is cut away before, And closes from behind.

Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high!
Or we shall be belated:
For slow and slow that ship will go,
When the Mariner's trance is abated."

The super- I woke, and we were sailing on
natural motion
is retarded;

As in a gentle weather : the Mariner 'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high, awakes, and his penance

The dead men stood together. begins anew

All stood together on the deck,
For a charnel-dungeon fitter :
All fixed on me their stony eyes,
That in the Moon did glitter.

The pang, the curse, with which they died,
Had never passed away:
I could not draw my eyes from theirs,
Nor turn them up to pray.

The curse is finally expiated

And now this spell was snapt: once more
I viewed the ocean green,
And looked far forth, yet little saw
Of what had else been seen-

Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turned round walks on,
And turns no more his head;
Because he knows, a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.

But soon there breathed a wind on me,
Nor sound nor motion made:
Its path was not upon the sea,
In ripple or in shade.

It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek
Like a meadow-gale of spring-
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.

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