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The monshine stealing o'er the scene
My own dear Genevieve!
She lean'd against the armed man,
Amid the ling'ring light.
Few sorrows hath she of her own,
The songs, that make her grieve.
I played a soft and doleful air,
The ruin wild and hoary.
She listened with a flitting blush,
But gaze upon her face.
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 fitting blush,
Too fondly on her face !
But when I told the cruel scorn
Nor rested day nor night;
That sometimes from the savage den,
In green and sunny glade,
There came, and looked him in the face,
This miserable Knight!
And how, unknowing what he did,
The Lady of the Land ;
And how she wept and clasped his knees,
The scorn, that crazed his brain :
And that she nursed him in a cave;
A dying man he lay ;
His dying words—But when I reached
Disturbed her soul with pity!
All impulses of soul and sense
The rich and balmy eve;
And hopes, and fears that kindle hope,
Subdued and cherished long!
She wept with pity and delight,
I heard her breathe my name,
Her bosom heaved—she stepped aside ;
She fled to me and wept.
She half enclosed me with her arms,
And gazed upon my face.
'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
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;
May'st hear the merry din.”
But still he holds the wedding-guest
“ There was a ship,” quoth he“Nay, if thou'st got a laughsome tale,
Mariner! come with me.”
He holds him with his skinny hand,
Quoth he, “ There was a ship’
He holds him with his glittering eye
The wedding-guest stood still
The Mariner hath his will
The wedding-guest sate on a stone,
He cannot choose but hear:
The bright-eyed Mariner.
“The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared
Merrily did we drop
Below the light-house top.
The sun came up upon the left,
Out of the sea came he:
Went down into the sea
Higher and higher every day,
Till over the mast at noon
For he heard the loud bassoon.
The bride hath paced into the hall,
Red as a rose is she;
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 :
“ But now the north wind came more fierce,
There came a tempest strong!
Like chaff we drove along.