Four times fifty living men, The souls did from their bodies fly,- And every soul, it passed me by, His shipmates drop down dead; But LIFE-INDEATH begins her work on the ancient Mariner. PART THE FOURTH. "I FEAR thee, ancient Mariner ! I fear thy skinny hand! And thou art long, and lank, and brown, I fear thee and thy glittering eye,, Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest! Alone, alone, all, all alone, The many men, so beautiful! And a thousand thousand slimy things I looked upon the rotting sea, And drew my eyes away; I looked upon the rotting deck, I looked to Heaven, and tried to pray; But or ever a prayer had gusht, 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; The Wedding. Guest feareth that a spirit is talking to him; But the ancient Mariner assureth him of his bodily life, and proceedeth to relate his horrible penance. He despiseth the creatures of the calm. And envieth that they should live, and so many lie dead. For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky And the dead were at my feet. *For the two last 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. But the curse liveth for him in the eye of the dead men. In his loneliness and fixedness he yearneth towards the journeying Moon, and the stars that still The cold sweat melted from their limbs, The look with which they looked on me An orphan's curse would drag to Hell But oh! more horrible than that Is a curse in a dead man's eye! Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, The moving Moon went up the sky, And no where did abide: Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside sojourn, yet still move onward; and every where the blue sky, belongs to them, and is their appointed rest, and their native country and their own natural homes, which they enter unannounced, as lords that are certainly expected and yet there is a silent joy at their arrival. PART THE FIFTH. OH SLEEP! it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole! To Mary Queen the praise be given ! The silly buckets on the deck, I dreamt that they were filled with dew; My lips were wet, my throat was cold, Sure I had drunken in my dreams, I moved, and could not feel my limbs : I thought that I had died in sleep, And soon I heard a roaring wind: But with its sound it shook the sails, The upper air burst into life! The wan stars danced between. And the coming wind did roar more loud, And the rain poured down from one black cloud; The Moon was at its edge. The thick black cloud was cleft, and still The Moon was at its side : Like waters shot from some high crag, The loud wind never reached the ship, The dead men gave a groan. By grace of the holy Mother, the ancient Mariner is refreshed with rain. He heareth sounds, and seeth strange sights and commotions in the sky and the element. The bodies of the ship's crew are inspired, and the ship moves on; |