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!" He holds him with his glittering eye- And listens like a three-years' child: 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: And thus spake on that ancient man, The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared, Merrily did we drop Below the kirk, below the hill, The sun came up upon the left, And he shone bright, and on the right Higher and higher every day, The wedding-guest here beat his breast, The bride hath paced into the hall, Nodding their heads, before her goes The wedding-guest he beat his breast, And now the storm-blast came, and he He struck with his o'ertaking wings, With sloping masts, and dipping prow, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold; And ice mast high came floating by, As green as emerald. And through the drifts, the snowy clifts Did send a dismal sheen: Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken- 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, As if it had been a Christian soul, It ate the food it ne'er had ate, And a good south wind sprung up behind; 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, For all averred I had killed the bird Ah, wretch! said they, the bird to slay 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 Twas right, said they, such birds to slay The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, We were the first that ever burst Into that silent sea. Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, And we did speak only to break 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, Upon a painted ocean. Water, water everywhere, Water, water everywhere, Nor any drop to drink. The very deep did rot: Alas! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs About, about, in reel and rout, And some in dreams assured were And every tongue, through utter drought, We could not speak, no more than if Ah, well-a-day! what evil looks 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 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: 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; With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, See! see! I cried, she tacks no more The western wave was all a-flame, . When that strange shape drove suddenly 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. |