A spirit

had follow one of the

ed them;

invisible

Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: O Christ!

That ever this should be!

Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue and white.

And some in dreams assured were
Of the spirit that plagued us so;
Nine fathom deep he had followed us

inhabitants From the land of mist and snow.

of this planet,

neither de

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.

The shipmates, in their sore distress, would fain

And every tongue, through utter 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!

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.

About neck was hung.
my

PART III.

THERE passed a weary time.

throat

Was parched, and glazed each eye. time! a weary time!

A

weary

How glazed each weary eye,
When looking westward, I beheld
A something in the sky.

At first it seemed a little speck,
And then it seemed a mist;

It moved and moved, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!

And still it neared and neared:

As if it dodged a water-sprite,

It plunged and tacked and veered.

Each

The ancient Mariner beholdeth a sign in the element afar off

With throats unslaked, with black lips At its

baked,

We could nor laugh nor wail;

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,
As they were drinking all.

See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more!
Hither to work us weal;

dear ransom he freeth his speech from the bonds of thirst.

A flash of joy;

And horror follows. For can it be a ship

that comes Without a breeze, without a tide,

onward without

wind or tide?

It seemeth

him but

the skele

ton 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,
The day was weil nigh done!
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright Sun;

When that strange shape drove suddenly
Betwixt us and the Sun.

And straight the Sun was flecked with bars,

(Heaven's Mother send us grace!)

As if through a dungeon grate he peered
With broad and burning face.

Alas! (thought 1, and my heart beat loud)
How fast she nears and nears!

Are those her sails that glance in the Sun,
Like restless gossameres?

Are those her ribs through which the Sun
Did peer, as through a grate?

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 locks were yellow as gold:
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Night-mare Life-in-Death was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold,

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:
At one stride comes the dark;
With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea,
Off shot the spectre-bark.

We listened and looked sideways up
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

Till clomb above the eastern bar

The horned Moon, with one bright star
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,
(And I heard nor sign nor groan)
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
They dropped down one by one.

The souls did from their bodies fly,-
They fled to bliss or woe!
And every soul, it passed me by,
Like the whizz of my crossbow!

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 Life-
in-Death
begins her
work on
the ancient
Mariner.

66

The wedding-guest

feareth

that a spi

PART IV.

'I FEAR thee, ancient Mariner
I fear thy skinny hand!

rit is talk-And thou art long, and lank, and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand.*

ing to him.

cient Ma

I fear thee and thy glittering eye,
And thy skinny hand, so brown."

But the an- Fear not, fear not, thou wedding-guest!
riner assur. This body dropt not down.

eth him of

his bodily life, and proceedeth to relate his horrible penance.

He despiseth the creatures of the calm.

Alone, alone, all, all alone,

Alone on a wide, wide sea!

And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.

The many men, so beautiful!
And they all dead did lie:

And a thousand thousand slimy things
Lived on; and so did I.

And envi- I looked upon the rotting sea,

eth that

they should And drew my eyes away;

live, and so many lie dead.

I looked upon the rotting deck,
And there the dead men lay.

For the last two lines of this stanza, I am indebted to Mr. Wordsworth. It was on a delightful walk from Nether Stowey to Dulverton, with him and his sister, in the autumn of 1797, that this poem was planned, and in part composed.