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T is an ancient Mariner,

And he stoppeth one of three;

An ancient Mariner meeteth three gallants

"By thy long gray beard and glit- bidden to a wedding

tering eye,

Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

The bridegroom's doors are opened wide,

And I am next of kin;

The guests are met, the feast is set:

Mayst hear the merry din."

He holds him with his skinny hand; "There was a ship," quoth he.

feast, and detaineth

one.

"Hold off! unhand me, gray-beard loon!"
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

He holds him with his glittering eye-
The wedding-guest stood still,

And listens like a three-years' child:
The Mariner hath his will.

The wedding-guest is spell-bound by the eye of the old seafaring man, and constrained to hear his tale.

The wedding-guest sat on a stone:
He cannot choose but hear;

And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.

The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,

Merrily did we drop

Below the kirk, below the hill,
Below the lighthouse top.

The sun came up upon the left,
Out of the sea came he;

And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the sea.

Higher and higher every day,
Till over the mast at noon-

The wedding-guest here beat his breast,
For he heard the loud bassoon.

The bride hath paced into the hall,
Red as a rose is she:

Nodding their heads, before her goes
The merry minstrelsy.

The wedding-guest he beat his breast,
Yet he cannot choose but hear!
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.

And now the storm-blast came, and he
Was tyrannous and strong;

He struck with his o'ertaking wings,
And chased us south along.

With sloping masts, and dipping prow,
As who pursued with yell and blow
Still treads the shadow of his foe,
And forward bends his head;

The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,
And southward aye we fled.

And now there came both mist and snow,

And it grew wondrous cold;

And ice mast high came floating by,

As green as emerald.

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And through the drifts, the

snowy

clifts

Did send a dismal sheen:

Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken-
The ice was all between.

The land of ice and of fearful sounds, where no living thing was to be seen.

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,
Thorough the fog it came;

As if it had been a Christian soul,
We hailed it in God's name.

It ate the food it ne'er had ate,
And round and round it flew,
The ice did split with a thunder-fit;
The helmsman steered us through!

And a good south wind sprung up behind;
The albatross did follow,

And every day, for food or play,

Came to the mariners' hollo!

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud

It perched for vespers nine;

Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,

Glimmered the white moonshine.

"God save thee, ancient Mariner,

From the fiends that plague thee thus!

Why look'st thou so?" With my

cross-bow

I shot the albatross.

Till a great sea-bird, called the albatross, came through the snow-fog, and was received with great joy and hospitality.

And, lo! the albatross proveth a bird of good omen, and followeth the ship as it returned northward through fog and floating ice.

The ancient Mariner inhospitably killeth the pious bird of good

omen.

PART II.

The sun now rose upon the right;

Out of the sea came he,

Still hid in mist, and on the left

Went down into the sea.

And the good south wind still blew behind,

But no sweet bird did follow,

Nor any day, for food or play,

Came to the mariners' hollo!

And I had done a hellish thing,
And it would work 'em wo;

For all averred I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.

Ah, wretch! said they, the bird to slay
That made the breeze to blow!

His shipmates cry out against the ancient Mariner for killing the bird of good luck.

Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,

The glorious sun uprist;

Then all averred I had killed the bird
That brought the fog and mist.

Twas right, said they, such birds to slay
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

Into that silent sea.

Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,
"Twas sad as sad could be;

And we did speak only to break
The silence of the sea!

All in a hot and copper sky,

The bloody sun, at noon,

Right up above the mast did stand,

No bigger than the moon.

Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water everywhere,
And all the boards did shrink:

Water, water everywhere,

Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: Alas!
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
From the land of mist and snow.

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.

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Ah, well-a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross the albatross
About my neck was hung.

The shipmates, in their sore distress, would fain throw the whole guilt on the ancient Mariner; in sign whereof they hang the dead sea-bird around his neck.

PART III.

There passed a weary time. Each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye.
A weary time! a weary time!
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.

The ancient Mariner beholdeth a sign in the element afar off.

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, At the nearer

We could nor laugh nor wail;

Through utter drought all dumb we stood;
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,
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 suddenly
Betwixt us and the sun.

ар

proach, it seemeth him to be a ship, and at a 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 onward without wind or tide?

It seemeth him but the skeleton of a ship.

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