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With throats unslaked, with black lips

baked,

Agape they heard me call:

Gramercy!1 they for joy did grin,

And all at once their breath drew in,

As they were drinking all.

A flash of joy;

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See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more! And horror

Hither to work us weal;

Without a breeze, without a tide,
She steadies with upright keel!

The western wave was all a-flame.
The day was well nigh done!
Almost upon the western wave

Rested the broad bright Sun;

When that strange shape drove sud

denly

Betwixt us and the Sun.

follows.

For can it be a

ship that comes
onward without
wind or tide?

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And straight the Sun was flecked with It seemeth him bars,

(Heaven's Mother send us grace !)

As if through a dungeon-grate he

peered

With broad and burning face.

Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)

How fast she nears and nears!

but the skeleton
of a ship.

1 An English form of a French word for thanks.

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And its ribs are seen as bars on

the face of the

setting Sun. The

Are those her sails that glance in the

Sun,

Like restless gossameres? 1

Are those her ribs through which the
Sun

Did peer, as through a grate?
Spectre-Woman And is that Woman all her crew?

and her Deathmate, and no other on board

the skeleton-ship.

Like vessel, like

crew!

Is that a Death? and are there two?
Is Death that woman's mate?

Her lips were red, her looks were
free,

Her locks were yellow as gold:

Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.

Death and Life- The naked hulk alongside came,

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And the twain were casting dice;
is done! I've won! I've

"The game

won!"

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.

1 Fine cobwebs.

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We listened and looked sideways up! At the rising of

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 clomb1 above the eastern bar

The horned Moon, with one bright star

Within the nether tip.

the Moon,

One after one, by the star-dogged One after

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 sigh nor groan) With heavy thump, a lifeless lump, They dropped down one by one.

another,

His shipmates
drop down dead.

The souls did from their bodies fly,— But Life-in

They fled to bliss or woe!

And every soul, it passed me by,

Like the whizz of my cross-bow!'

1 Old form for climbed.

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Death begins her work on the

ancient Mariner.

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The Wedding-
Guest feareth

that a Spirit is
talking to him;

But the ancient

PART IV

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

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

I fear thee and thy glittering eye, Mariner assureth And thy skinny hand, so brown.'

him of his bodily

life, and proceed-Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding

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horrible penance.

This body dropt not down.

Alone, alone, all, all alone,

Alone on a wide wide sea!

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

He despiseth the The many men, so beautiful!

creatures of the

calm.

And envieth that

they should live, and so many lie dead.

And they all dead did lie:

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

I looked upon the rotting sea,
And drew my eyes away;

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

I looked to heaven, and tried to pray;
But or ever a prayer had gusht,

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A wicked whisper came, and made

My heart as dry as dust.

I closed my lids, and kept them close,

And the balls like pulses beat;

For the sky and the sea, and the sea

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The cold sweat melted from their limbs, But the curse liv

Nor rot nor reek1 did they :

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eth for him in the

eye of the dead

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The look with which they looked on men.

me

Has never passed away.

An orphan's curse would drag to hell

A spirit from on high;

But oh more horrible than that

Is a curse in a dead man's eye!

Seven days, seven nights, I saw that

curse,

And yet I could not die.

The moving Moon went up the sky,

And nowhere did abide:

Softly she was going up,

And a star or two beside

1 Probably steam or smell.

In his loneliness
and fixedness he
yearneth toward
the journeying
Moon, and the
stars that still so-
journ, yet still

move onward;

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