A spirit had follow ed them; one of the invisible inhabitants of this planet, neither de Water, water, every where, The very deep did rot: O Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs About, about, in reel and rout And some in dreams assured were parted souls nor angels; concerning whom the learned Jew, Josephus, and the Platonic Constantinopolitan, Michael Psellus, may be consulted. They are very numerous, and there is no climate or element without one or more. mates, in And every tongue, through utter drought, We could not speak, no more than if The ship Ah! well a-day! what evil looks their sore distress, would fain throw the Instead of the cross, the Albatross whole guilt on the ancient Mariner; in sign whereof they hang the dead sea-bird round his neck. PART III. THERE passed a weary time. throat Was parched, and glazed each eye. At first it seemed a little speck, It moved and moved, and took at last A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! And still it neared and neared: Each The ancient Mariner beholdeth a sign in the element afar off. It plunged and tacked and veered. With throats unslaked, with black baked, We could nor laugh nor wail; lips At its nearer approach, it seemeth him to be a ship; Through utter drought all dumb we stood! and at a I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, And cried, A sail! a sail! With throats unslaked, with black lips 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! dear ransom he freeth his speech from the bonds of thirst. that comes Without a breeze, without a tide, on ward without wind or tide? It seemeth him but the skeleton of a ship. And its ribs are seen as bars on the face of the setting She steadies with upright keel! The western wave was all a-flame, When that strange shape drove suddenly And straight the Sun was flecked with bars, (Heaven's Mother send us grace!) As if through a dungeon grate he peered Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud) Are those her sails that glance in the Sun, Are those her ribs through which the Sun And is that Woman all her crew? Sun. The Is that a Death? and are there two? spectre woman Is Death that woman's mate? and her deathmate, and no other on board the skeletonship. Like vessel, like crew! Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her skin was as white as leprosy, Death and The naked hulk alongside came, Life-in Death have And the twain were casting dice; diced for "The game is done! I've won, I've won!" the ship's Quoth she, and whistles thrice. The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: We listened and looked sideways up The stars were dim, and thick the night, white; From the sails the dew did drip Till clomb above the eastern bar The horned Moon, with one bright star One after one, by the star-dogged Moon, Each turned his face with a ghastly pang, Four times fifty living men, The souls did from their bodies fly,- crew, and she (the latter) winneth the ancient Mariner. No twilight within the courts of the sun. At the rising of the Moon. One after another, His shipmates drop down dead. But Lifein-Death begins her work on the ancient Mariner. "Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!" The wed. He holds him with his glittering eye- ding guest is spellbound by the eye of the old sea And listens like a three years' child: faring man, The Mariner hath his will. and con strained to hear his tale. The Mariner tells how the ship sailed The wedding-guest sat on a stone: And thus spake on that ancient man, The ship was cheered, the harbor cleared, Merrily did we drop Below the kirk, below the hill, Below the light-house top. The sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he! southward And he shone bright, and on the right with a good wind Went down into the sea. and fair weather till it reached the Line. Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, The wed. The bride hath paced into the hall, ding guest heareth the bridal Red as a rose is she; music; but the ma riner con. Nodding their heads before her goes tinueth his The merry minstrelsy, tale. The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast, |