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All stood together on the deck,
The pang, the curse, with which they died,
I could not draw my eyes from theirs,
And now this spell was snapt; once more
I viewed the ocean green,
And looked far forth, yet little saw
Of what had else been seen;
Like one that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And, having once turned round, walks on,
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.
But soon there breathed a wind on me,
Nor sound nor motion made
Its path was not upon the sea
In ripple or in shade.
It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek,
Swiftly, swiftly, flew the ship,
Sweetly, sweetly, blew the breeze,
The curse ie finally expi ated i
And the an
THE ANCIENT MARINER.
O dream of joy! is this, indeed,
ner behold- The lighthouse top I see?
eth his na
Is this the hill? is this the kirk?
We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,
The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
So smoothly it was strewn ;
And on the bay the moonlight lay,
And the shadow of the moon.
The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,
The moonlight steeped in silentness
The angelic And the bay was white with silent light, Till, rising from the same,
spirits leave the dead bodies,
Full many shapes, that shadows were,
And appear A little distance from the prow forms of Those crimson shadows were ;
in their own
I turned my eyes upon the deck,
Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,
A man all light, a seraph-man,
On every corse there stood.
This seraph-band each waved his hand;
It was a heavenly sight!
They stood as signals to the land,
This seraph-band each waved his hand,
No voice; but, Ô, the silence sank
Like music on my heart!
But soon I heard the dash of oars,
My head was turned perforce away,
The pilot and the pilot's boy,
Dear Lord in heaven, it was a joy
I saw a third,
I heard his voice;
It is the hermit good!
He singeth loud his godly hymns
That he makes in the wood.
He'll shrieve my soul, he 'll wash away
THIS hermit good lives in that wood
How loudly his sweet voice he rears !
That come from a far countree.
He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve,
of the wood,
eth the ship with won
The ship suddenly sinketh.
THE ANCIENT MARINER.
It is the moss that wholly hides
The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk,
Where are those lights so many and fair,
Strange, by my faith!" the hermit said,
The planks look warped! and see those sails,
I never saw aught like to them,
Unless perchance it were
"Brown skeletons of leaves that lag
My forest-brook along ;
When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow,
"Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look,”
"I am a-feared.”
"Push on, push on!"
Said the hermit cheerily..
The boat came closer to the ship,
But I nor spake nor stirred;
The boat came close beneath the ship,
Under the water it rumbled on,
Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound,
Which sky and ocean smote,
Like one that hath been seven days drowned,
My body lay afloat;
But, swift as dreams, myself I found
Within the pilot's boat.
Upon the whirl, where sank the ship,
I moved my lips,
the pilot shrieked,
And fell down in a fit;
The holy hermit raised his eyes,
I took the oars: the pilot's boy,
Laughed loud and long, and all the while
His eyes went to and fro.
"Ha! ha!" quoth he," full plain I see, The Devil knows how to row.
And now, all in my own countree,
I stood on the firm land ;
The hermit stepped forth from the boat,
"O, shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!" The hermit crossed his brow.
"Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say What manner of man art thou ?
Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
The ancient mariner is saved in the
The ancient mariner earnestly entreateth the hermit to shrieve him; and the penance of life falls