And the good south wind still blew And every tongue, through utter drought, behind,

Was withered at the root; But no sweet bird did follow,

We could not speak, no more than if Nor any day, for food or play,

We had been choked with soot. Came to the mariner's hollo!

Ah! well a-day! what evil looks And I had done a hellish thing,

Had I from old and young!
And it would work 'em woe:

Instead of the cross, the albatross
For all averred, I had killed the bird About my neck was hung.
That made the breeze to blow.

PART III.
Nor dim nor red, like God's own head There passed a weary time. Each throat
The glorious Sun uprist:

Was parched, and glazed each eye.
Then all averred, I had killed the bird A weary time! a weary time!
That brought the fog and mist,

How glazed each weary eye,
'Twas right, said they, such birds to When looking westward, I beheld
slay,

A something in the sky.
That bring the fog and mist.

At first it seemed a little speck,
The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, And then it seemed a mist;
The furrow followed free;

It moved and moved, and took at last We were the first that ever burst

A certain shape I wist. Into that silent sea.

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist ! Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt And still it neared and neared; down,

As if it dodged a water sprite, 'Twas sad as sad could be;

It plunged and tacked and veered. And we did speak only to break

With throats unslaked, with black lips The silence of the sea !

baked, All in a hot and copper sky,

We could nor laugh nor wail; The bloody Sun, at noon,

Through utter drought all dumb we stood ! Right up above the mast did stand, I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, No bigger than the Moon.

And cried, A sail! a sail ! Day after day, day after day,

With throats unslaked, with black lips We stuck, nor breath nor motion;

baked, As idle as a painted ship

Agape they heard me call: Upon a painted ocean.

Grammercy! they for joy did grin, Water, water, everywhere,

And all at once their breath drew in, And all the boards did shrink;

As they were drinking all, Water, water, everywhere,

See! see! (I cried,) she tacks no more! Nor any drop to drink.

Hither to work us weal; The very deep did rot: O Christ!

Without a breeze, without a tide, That ever this should be!

She steadies with upright keel! Yea, shiny things did crawl with legs The western wave was all aflame. Upon the shiny sea.

The day was well-nigh done! About, about, in reel and rout,

Almost upon the western wave The death-fires danced at night,

Rested the broad bright Sun; The water, like a witch's oils,

When that strange shape drove suddenly Burnt green, and blue, and white.

Betwixt us and the Sun, And some in dreams assured were And straight the Sun was flecked with bars, Of the spirit that plagued us so; (Heaven's Mother send us grace!) Nine fathom deep he had followed us As if through a dungeon-grate he peered From the land of mist and snow.

With broad and burning face.

Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud,) I fear thee and thy glittering eye,
How fast she nears and pears!

And thy skinny hand so brown."-
Are those her sails that glance in the Sun, Fear not, fear not, thou wedding-guest !
Like restless gossamers ?

This body dropt not down. Are those her ribs through which the Sun Alone, alone, all, all alone, Did peer, as through a grate ?

Alone on a wide, wide sea ! And is that woman all her crew ?

And never a saint took pity on Is that a Death? and are there two?

My soul in agony. Is Death that woman's mate?

The many men so beautiful ! Her lips were red, her looks were free,

And they all dead did lie : Her locks were yellow as gold:

And a thousand thousand shiny things Her skin was as white as leprosy,

Lived on; and so did I.
The night-mare Life-in-Death was she, I looked upon the rotting sea,
Who thicks man's blood with cold. And drew my eyes away ;
The naked hulk alongside came,

I looked upon the rotting deck,

And there the dead men lay. And the twain were casting dice; " The game is done! I've won, I've won!” I looked to heaven, and tried to pray ; Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

But, or ever a prayer had gushed,

A wicked whisper came, and made
The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out;
At one stride comes the dark;

My heart as dry as dust.
With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea,

I closed my lids, and kept them close, Off shot the spectre-bark.

And the balls like pulses beat;

For the sky and the sea, and the sea and We listened and looked sideways up!

the sky, Fear at my heart, as at a cup,

Lay like a load on my weary eye, My life-blood seemed to sip!

And the dead were at my feet. The stars were dim, and thick the night, The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed The cold sweat melted from their limbs,

Nor rot nor reek did they ; white; From the sails the dew did drip

The look with which they looked on me

Had never passed away.
Till clomb above the eastern bar
The horned Moon, with one bright star An orphan's curse would drag to hell
Within the nether tip.

A spirit from on high ;
One after one, by the star-dogged Moon, Is the curso in a dead man's eye !

But oh ! more terrible than that
Too quick for groan or sigh,
Each turned his face with a ghastly pang, And yet I could not die.

Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And cursed me with his eye.

The moving Moon went up the sky, Four times fifty living men,

And nowhere did abide : (And I heard nor sigh nor groan,)

Softly she was going up With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,

And a star or two besideThey dropped down one by one.

Her beams bemocked the sultry main, The souls did from their bodies ily,

Like April hoar-frost spread ; They fled to bliss or woe !

And where the ship's huge shadow lay,
And every soul, it passed me by, The charmed water burnt alway
Like the whizz of my cross-bow!

A still and awful red.
PART IV.

Beyond the shadow of the ship “I fear thee, ancient mariner !

I watched the water-snakes : I fear thy skinny hand !

They moved in tracks of shining white; And thou art long, and lank, and brown, And when they reared, the elfish light As is the ribbed sea-sand.

Fell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the ship
I watched their rich attire :
Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,
They coiled and swam ; and every track
Was a flash of golden fire.
O happy living things ! no tongue
Their beauty might declare :
A spring of love gushed from my heart,

And I blessed them unaware :
Sure my kind saint took pity on me,
And I blessed them unaware.
The selfsame moment I could pray;
And from my neck so free
The albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea.

PART V.

200.—THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER, $ 2.

COLERIDGE.

The loud wind never reached the ship, Ou sleep! it is a gentle thing,

Yet how the ship moved on ! Beloved from pole to pole !

Beneath the lightning and the Moon To Mary Queen the praise be given !

The dead men gave a groan. She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, They groaned, they stirred, they all upThat slid into my soul.

rose, The silly buckets on the deck,

Nor spake, nor moved their eyes : That had so long remained,

It had been strange, even in a dream,

To have seen those dead men rise.
I dreamt that they were filled with dew;
And when I awoke, it rained.

The helmsman steered, the ship moved on;

Yet never a breeze up-blew ; My lips were wet, my throat was cold,

The mariners all 'gan work the ropes, My garments all were dank ;

Where they were wont to do ; Sure I had drunken in my dreams,

They raised their limbs like lifeless toolsAnd still my body drank.

We were a ghastly crew.
I moved, and could not foel

my
limbs :

The body of my brother's son
I was so light-almost

Stood by me, knee to knee :
I thought that I had died in slcep, The body and I pulled at one rope,
And was a blessed ghost.

But he said nought to me.
And soon I heard a roaring wind: “I fear thee, ancient mariner ! ”
It did not come ancar ;

Be calm, thou wedding-guest !
But with its sound it shook the sails, 'Twas not those souls that fled in pain,
That were so thin and scre.

Which to their corses came again,

But a troop of spirits blest : The upper air burst into life!

For when it dawned--they dropped their And a hundred fire-flags sheen,

arms, To and fro they were hurried about !

And clustered round the mast; And to and fro, and in and out,

Swect sounds rose slowly through their The wan stars danced between.

mouths, And the coming wind did roar more loud, And from their bodies passed. And the sails did sigh like sedge ; Around, around, flow cach sweet sound, And the raiu poured down from one black Then darted to the Sun ; cloud;

Slowly the sounds came back again, The Moon was at its edge.

Now mixed, now one by one. The thick black cloud was cleft, and still Sometimes a-dropping from the sky, The Moon was at its side :

I heard the sky-lark sing ; Like waters shot from some high crag, Sometimes all little birds that are, The lightning fell with never a jag, How they seemed to fill the sea and air A river steep and wide.

With their sweet jargoning!

PART VI.

And now 'twas like all instruments,
Now like a lonely flute;

First Voice.
And now it is an angel's song

But tell me, tell me ! speak again, That makes the heavens be mute.

Thy soft response renewingIt ceased ; yet still the sails made on What makes that ship drive on so fast ! A pleasant noise till noon,

What is the ocean doing? A noise like of a hidden brook

Second Voice. In the leafy month of June,

Still as a slave before his lord, That to the sleeping woods all night

The occan hath no blast; Singeth a quiet tune.

His great bright eye most silently Till noon we quietly sailed on,

Up to the Moon is cast. Yet never a breeze did breathe :

If he may know which way to go ; Slowly and smoothly went the ship,

For she guides him smooth or grim
Moved onward from beneath,

See, brother, see ! how graciously
Under the keel nine fathom deep, She looketh down on him.
From the land of mist and snow,

First Voice
The spirit slid : and it was he
That made the ship to go.

But why drives on that ship so fast,

Without or wave or wind ?
The sails at noon left off their tupe,
And the ship stood still also.

Second Voice.
The Sun, right up above the mast,

The air is cut away before, Had fixed her to the ocean :

And closes from behind. But in a minute she 'gan stir,

Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high! With a short uneasy motion

Or we shall be belated :
Backwards and forwards half her length For slow and slow that ship will go,
With a short uneasy motion.

When the mariner's trance is abated.
Then like a pawing horse let go, I woke, and we were sailing on
She made a sudden bound :

As in a gentle weather : It flung the blood into my head, 'Twas night, calm night, the moon was And I fell down in a swound.

high ; How long in that same fit I lay,

The dead men stood together. I have not to declare ;

All stood together on the deck,
But ere my living life returned,

For a charnel-dungeon fitter :
I heard, and in my soul discerned All fixed on me their stony eyes
Two voices in the air.

That in the Moon did glitter. “ Is it he?" quoth one, “Is this the The pang, the curse, with which they died, man?

Had never passed away : By him who died on cross,

I could not draw my eyes from theirs, With his cruel bow he laid full low Nor turn them up to pray. The harmless albatross.

And now this spell was snapt: once more “The spirit who bideth by himself "

I viewed the ocean green, In the land of mist and snow,

And looked far north, yet little saw He loved the bird that loved the man Of what had else been seenWho shot him with his bow."

Like one, that on a lonesome road The other was a soster voice,

Doth walk in fear and dread, As soft as honey-dew:

And having once turned round walks on, Quoth he, “The man hath penanco And turns no more his head ; done,

Because he knows a frightful fiend And penance more will do."

Doth close behind him tread.

But soon there breathed a wind on me, But soon I heard the dash of oars,
Nor sound nor motion made:

I heard the pilot's cheer ;
Its path was not upon the sea,

My head was turned perforce away,
In ripple or in shade.

And I saw a boat appear.
It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek The pilot and the pilot's boy,
Like a meadow-gale of spring-

I heard them coming fast :
It mirgled strangely with my fears, Dear Lord in Heaven ! it was a joy
Yet it felt like a welcoming.

The dead men could not blast.
Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,

I saw a third—I heard his voice :
Yet she sailed softly too :

It is the hermit good!
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze- He singeth loud his godly hymns
On me alone it blew.

That he makes in the wood.
Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed

He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away The light-house top I see ?

The albatross's blood. Is this the hill ? is this the kirk ?

PART VII
Is this mire own countree ?

This hermit good lives in that wood
We drifted o'er the harbour-bar, Which slopes down to the sea.
And I with sobs did pray-

How loudly his sweet voice he rears ! O let me be awake, my God!

He loves to talk with mariners Or let me sleep alway.

That come from a far countree.
The harbour-bay was clear as glass, He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve
So smoothly it was strewn !

He hath a cushion plump:
And on the bay the moonlight lay, It is the moss that wholly hides
And the shadow of the moon.

The rotted old oak-stump.
The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, The skiff-boat neared : I heard them talk,
That stands above the rock :

“Why, this is strange, I trow ! The moonlight steeped in silentness Where are those lights so many and fair, The steady weathercock.

That signal made but now ?" And the bay was white with silent light, “Strange, by my faith!" the hermit saidTill rising from the same,

“And they answered not our cheer! Full many shapes, that shadows were, The planks looked warped ! and see those In crimson colours came.

sails, A little distance from the prow

How thin they are and sere ! Those crimson shadows were :

I never saw aught like to them, I turned my eyes upon the deck

Unless perchance it were
Oh, Christ! what saw I there!

Brown skeletons of leaves that lay
Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat My forest-brook along :
And, by the holy rood !

When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, A man all light, a seraph-man,

And the owlet whoops to the wolf below, On every corse there stood.

That eats the she-wolf's young." This seraph-band, each waved his haad : “Dear Lord ! it hath a fiendish lookIt was a heavenly sight !

(The pilot made reply) They stood as signals to the land, I am a-feared”-“Push on, push on !" Each one a lovely light;

Said the hermit cheerily.
This seraph-band, each waved his hand: The boat came closer to the ship,
No voice did they impart-

But I nor spake nor stirred ;
No voice; but oh! the silence sank The boat came close beneath the ship,
Like music on my heart.

And straight a sound was heard.

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