And now the storm-blast came, and he He struck with his o'ertaking wings, 'With sloping masts and dripping prow, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, That made the breeze to blow. 'And now there came both mist and snow, And through the drifts the snowy cliffs Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken- 'The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around; It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound! 'At length did cross an albatross, As if it had been a Christian soul, 'It ate the food it ne'er had eat, "Ah, wretch," said they, "the bird to slay That made the breeze to blow!" 'Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, Then all averred I had killed the bird That bring the fog and mist." The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow followed free; We were the first that ever burst 'Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt And we did speak only to break 'All in a hot and copper sky, Right up above the mast did stand, 'And a good south wind sprung up be- 'Day after day, day after day, hind, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; Upon a painted ocean. 'Water, water everywhere, "The very deep did rot; O Christ! [down, Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs 'About, about, in reel and rout 'And some in dreams assured were And every tongue, through utter Alas, thought I, and my heart beat loud, drought, Was withered at the root; We could not speak, no more than if We had been choked with soot. Ah, well-a-day! what evil looks Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the albatross About my neck was hung. PART III. "There passed a weary time. Each throat At first it seemed a little speck, It moved and moved, and took at last 'A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! 'With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, We could nor laugh nor wail; How fast she nears and nears; Are those her sails that glance in the sun Like restless gossameres? The sun's rim dips, the stars rush out, Fear at my heart, as at a cup, My life-blood seemed to sip. The stars were dim, and thick the night, The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white; From the sails the dew did drip- 'With throats unslaked, with black lips The horned moon, with one bright star baked, Agape they heard me call; Gramercy they for joy did grin, And all at once their breath drew in, ""See! - see!" I cried, "she tacks no more, Hither to work us weal; 'The western wave was all a-flame, 'And straight the sun was flecked with bars Heaven's mother send us grace !— Within the nether tip. 'One after one, by the star-dogged moon, Too quick for groan or sigh, Each turned his face with a ghastly pang, And cursed me with his eye. 'Four times fifty living men- "The souls did from their bodies fly- PART IV. I fear thee, ancient mariner, And thou art long, and lank, and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand. "I fear thee and thy glittering eye, And thy skinny hand so brown.' 'Fear not, fear not, thou wedding guest, This body dropped not down. 'Alone, alone, all, all alone, And never a saint took pity on "The many men so beautiful! And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on, and so did I. 'I looked upon the rotting sea, I looked upon the rotting deck, 'I looked to heaven, and tried to pray; 'I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky, Lay like a load on my weary eye, 'The cold sweat melted from their limbs, Nor rot nor reek did they; The look with which they looked on me Had never passed away. 'An orphan's curse would drag to hell But oh! more horrible than that 'My lips were wet, my throat was cold, My garments all were dank; Sure I had drunken in my dreams, 'I moved, and could not feel my limbs: I was so light-almost I thought that I had died in sleep, Seven days, seven nights, I saw that And was a blessed ghost. "The thick black cloud was cleft, and still The moon was at its side: Like waters shot from some high crag, "The loud wind never reached the ship, "They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, Nor spake, nor moved their eyes; It had been strange, even in a dream, In the leafy month of June, [The ship is driven onward, but at length the curse is finally expiated. A wind springs up; It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek The mariner sees his native country. The angelic spirits leave the dead bodies, and appear in their own forms of light, each waving his hand to the shore. A boat 'The helmsman steered, the ship moved with a pilot and hermit on board ap on, Yet never a breeze up blew; The mariners all 'gan work the ropes They raised their limbs like lifeless tools- "The body of my brother's son The body and I pulled, at one rope, 'I fear thee, ancient mariner !' 'Twas not those souls that fled in pain, proaches the ship, which suddenly sinks. The mariner is rescued; he entreats the hermit to shrive him, and the penance of life falls on him.] 'Forthwith this frame of mine was With a woful agony, [wrenched Which forced me to begin my tale; And then it left me free. 'Since then, at an uncertain hour That agony returns; And till my ghastly tale is told, 'I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech; That moment that his face I see, 'For when it dawned, they dropped their I know the man that must hear me : arms, And clustered round the mast; To him my tale I teach. Sweet sounds rose slowly through their 'What loud uproar bursts from that mouths And from their bodies passed. 'Around, around flew each sweet sound, Sometimes, a-dropping from the sky, 'And now 'twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; 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 door! The wedding-guests are there: 'O wedding-guest! this soul hath been 'O sweeter than the marriage-feast, To walk together to the kirk To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray. While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay! Farewell, farewell! but this I tell 'He prayeth best who loveth best The mariner whose eye is bright, He went like one that hath been stunned, A sadder and a wiser man From the Ode to the Departing Year' (1795). Spirit who sweepest the wild harp of time! Yet, mine eye fixed on heaven's unchanging clime With inward stillness, and submitted mind: Then with no unholy madness, Ere yet the entered cloud foreclosed my sight, And thence, where Poverty doth waste and languish ; Ye Woes! ye young-eyed Joys! advance! Raises its fateful strings from sleep, From every private bower, And each domestic hearth, And with a loud and yet a louder voice, Still echoes the dread name that o'er the earth Justice and Truth! They, too, have heard thy spell: I marked ambition in his war-array! I heard the mailèd monarch's troublous cry- Fly, mailèd monarch, fly! Stunned by Death's twice mortal mace, The insatiate hag shall gloat with drunken eye! Ye that gasped on Warsaw's plain? Ye that erst a, Ismail's tower, |