Her beams bemock'd the sultry main
Like morning frosts yspread;

But where the ship's huge shadow lay,
The charmed water burnt alway

A still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the ship

I watch'd the water-snakes:

They mov'd in tracks of shining white; And when they rear'd, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship

I watch'd their rich attire:

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
Their beauty might declare :

A spring of love gusht from my heart,
And I bless'd them unaware!

Sure my kind saint took pity on me, And I bless'd them unaware.

The self-same moment I could pray ; And from my neck so free

The Albatross fell off, and sank

Like lead into the sea.

O sleep, it is a gentle thing

Belov'd from pole to pole!

To Mary-queen the praise be yeven

She sent the gentle sleep from heaven

That slid into my soul.

The silly buckets on the deck

That had so long remain'd,

I dreamt that they were fill'd with dew

And when I awoke it rain'd.

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 mov'd and could not feel

I was so light, almost

my limbs,

I thought that I had died in sleep,
And was a blessed Ghost.

The roaring wind! it roar'd far off,

It did not come anear;

But with its sound it shook the sails

That were so thin and sere.

The upper

air bursts into life,

And a hundred fire-flags sheen

To and fro they are hurried about;

And to and fro, and in and out

The stars dance on between.

The coming wind doth roar more loud;
The sails do sigh, like sedge:

The rain pours down from one black cloud
And the Moon is at its edge.

Hark! hark! the thick black cloud is cleft,

And the Moon is at its side:

Like waters shot from some high crag,

The lightning falls with never a jag
A river steep and wide.

The strong wind reach'd the ship: it roar'd And dropp'd down, like a stone! Beneath the lightning and the moon

The dead men gave a groan.

They groan'd, they stirr'd, they all uprose,
Ne spake, ne mov'd their eyes :
It had been strange, even in a dream
To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steerd, the ship mov'd on ; Yet never a breeze up-blew;

The Marineres all 'gan work the

ropes,

Where they were wont to do: