The monshine stealing o'er the scene She lean'd against the armed man, Few sorrows hath she of her own, I played a soft and doleful air, She listened with a flitting blush, I told her of the Knight, that wore Upon his shield a burning brand; And that for ten long years he wooed The Lady of the Land. I told her, how he pin'd: and, ah! The low, the deep, the pleading tone, With which I sang another's love, Interpreted my own. She listened with a flitting blush, But when I told the cruel scorn Which crazed this bold and lovely Knight, And that he crossed the mountain woods, Nor rested day nor night; That sometimes from the savage den, There came, and looked him in the face, An angel beautiful and bright; And that he knew, it was a fiend, This miserable Knight! And how, unknowing what he did, He leap'd amid a murd'rous band, And saved from outrage worse than death The Lady of the Land; And how she wept and clasped his knees, And how she tended him in vain And ever strove to expiate The scorn, that crazed his brain : And that she nursed him in a cave; His dying words-But when I reached All impulses of soul and sense The music, and the doleful tale, The rich and balmy eve; And hopes, and fears that kindle hope, She wept with pity and delight, She blushed with love and maiden shame; Her bosom heaved-she stepped aside; She half enclosed me with her arms, 'Twas partly love, and partly fear, And partly 'twas a bashful art That I might rather feel than see The swelling of her heart. I calmed her fears; and she was calm, My bright and beauteous bride! THE ANCIENT MARINER PART I. It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three : By thy long grey beard and thy glittering eye Now wherefore stoppest me? The bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin ; The guests are met, the feast is set, May'st hear the merry din." But still he holds the wedding-guest— 66 He holds him with his skinny hand, He holds him with his glittering eye The wedding-guest stood still And listens like a three years' child; The wedding-guest sate 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, Below the light-house 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 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 go The wedding guest he beat his breast, "But now the north wind came more fierce, There came a tempest strong! And southward still for days and weeks Like chaff we drove along. I |