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But oh! more horrible than that And soon I heard a roaring wind :
He heareth Is a curse in a dead man's eye! It did not come anear;
sounds and seeth
strange sights Seven days, seven nights, I saw that But with its sound it shook the sails, and commotions curse, That were so thin and sere.
in the sky and And yet I could not die.
the element. un his loneliness The moving Moon went up the sky, And a hundred fire-flags sheen,
The upper air burst into life! and fixedness he yeurneth towards And nowhere did abide .
To and fro they were hurried about! the journeying Softly she was going up,
And to and fro, and in and out, Moon, and the And a star or two beside
The wan stars danced between.
And the rain pour'd down from one
The Moon was at its side:
Like waters shot from some high crag,
The lightning fell with never a jag, the Moon he be- I watch'd the water-snakes : A river steep and wide. holdeth God's creatures of the They moved in tracks of shining great calm. white,
The loud wind never reach'd the The bodies of the
ship, And when they rear'd, the elfish light
ship's crew are Fell off in hoary flakes. Yet now the ship moved on
inspired, and the
ship moves on
Nor spake, nor moved their eyes;
It had been strange, even in a dream,
To have seen those dead men rise.
The helmsman steer'd, the ship
moved on ,
Yet never a breeze up blew; in his heart. Sure my kind saint took pity on me, where they were wont to do;
The mariners all 'gan work the ropes,
They raised their limbs like liseless
-We were a ghastly crew.
The body of my brother's son
Stood by me, knee 10 knee :
The body and I pull'd at one rope,
souls of the men Heaven,
nor by dæmons of 'T was not those souls that fied in
earth or middle That slid into my soul.
air, but by a
blessed troop of
Which to their corses came again, By grace of the
The silly buckets on the deck, boly Mother, the That had so long remain d,
angelic spirits, But a troop of spirits blest: [dew;
sent down by the ancient Mariner
invocation of the is refreshed with I dreamt that they were all'd with
For when it dawn'd—they dropp'd guardian saint. rain. And when I awoke, it rain'd.
And from their bodies passidh.
Then darted to the Sun;
Slowly the sounds came back again,
Now mix'd, now one by one.
Sometimes, a-drooping from the sky,
Thy soft response renewing-
What makes that ship drive on so
What is the OCEAN doing ?
The ocean hath no blast;
His great bright eye most silently
She looketh down on him.
been cast into a Slowly and smoothly went the ship, Without or wave or wind ?
trance; for the Moved onward from beneath.
angelic power SECOND VOICE.
cause th the vegThe air is cut away before,
sel to drive north The lonesonie Under the keel nine fathom deep,
And closes from behind.
ward faster than spirit from the From the land of mist and snow,
human life coula south-pola carries The spirit slid : and it was he
endure on the ship as far
Fly, brother, fly! more high, more as the line, in That made the ship to go.
high! obedience to the The sails at noon lest off their tune, Or we shall be belated : angelic troop, but And the ship stood still also. still requireth
For slow and slow that ship will go, vengeance.
When the Mariner's trance is abated.
I woke, and we were sailing on The supernatura
motion is retard. With a short uneasy motion|'T was night, calm night, the Moon ed; the Mariner
awakes, and his Backwards and forwards half her was high ;
penance begins length
The dead men stood together.
All stood together on the deck,
The pang, the curse, with which they
died, fellow dæmons, I have not to declare ;
Had never pass'd away : the invisible in
But ere my living life return'd, habitants of the
I could not draw my eyes from theirs, element, take part I heard and in my soul discern'd
Nor turn them up to pray. in his wrong:
Two voices in the air. and two of them
And now this spell was snapt: once The curse is fi relate, one to the other, that pen- “Is it he?" quoth one, " Is this the more
pally expiated. ance long and man ?
I view'd the ocean green, heavy for the an- By him who died on cross,
And look'd far forth, yet little saw cient Mariner hath been accord. With his cruel bow he laid full low of what had else been seen ed to the Polar The harmless Albatross. Spirit, who re
Like one, that on a lonesome road turneth Bouth
“ The spirit who bideth by himself Doch walk in fear and dread,
And having once turn'd round walks
And turns no more his head ;
Doth close behind him tread.
But soon there breathed a wind on me,
Its path was not upon the sea,
It raised my hair, it fann'd my cheek He singeth loud his godly hymns
The Albatross's blood.
This Hermit good lives in that wood The Hermie of
Which slopes down to the sea the Wood, And the ancient Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed
How loudly his sweet voice he rears! Mariner behold- The light-house top I see?
He loves to talk with marineres eth his native Is this the hill ? is this the kirk?
That come from a far countrée.
He kneels at mom, and noon, and
He hath a cushion plump:
The rotted old oak-stump.
Strange, by my faith!" the Hermit Apprcachetn tne
ship with wonder The steady weathercock.
“ And they answer not our cheer!
The planks look warp'd! and see
How thin they are and sere! The angelic spir- Till, rising from the same,
I never saw aught like to them, its leave the Full many shapes that shadows were, Unless perchance it were dead bodios, In crimson colors came. And appear in A little distance from the prow
“ Brown skeletons of leaves that lag their own forms Those crimson shadows were:
My forest-brook along; of light.
When the ivy-lod is heavy with snow,
And the owlet whoops to the wolf
That eats the she-wolf's young."
“ Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look-
(The Pilot made reply,)
I am a-fear’d"—“Push on, push on!"
The boat came closer to the ship,
The boat came close beneath the ship,
And straight a sound was heard.
Under the water it rumbled on, The ship suddenly
The ship went down like lead.
Stunn'd by that loud and dreadful The ancient Ma
sound, I heard the Pilot's cheer;
riner is saved in My head was turn'd perforce away, Like one that hath been seven days Which sky and ocean smote,
the Pilot's boat And I saw a boat appear.
My body lay afloat;
But swift as dreams, myself I found
Within the Pilot's boat.
The boat spun round and round;
Was telling of the sound.
I moved my lips—the Pilot shriek’d, But in the garden-hower the bride
maids singing are: The holy Hermit raised his eyes, And hark! the little vesper-bell, And pray'd where he did sit.
Which biddeth me to prayer.
I took the oars: the Pilot's boy,
O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea :
Scarce seemed there to be.
'Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk,
With a goodly company!
To walk together to the kirk,
And all together pray,
While each to his great Father bends,
friends, seateth the Her nit to shrive him;
Say quick," quoth he, “ I bid thee And youths and maidens gay! and the penance say
And to teach, by of life falls on -What manner of man art thou?” Farewell, farewell! but this I tell
his own example, him.
To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!
love and reverForth with this frame of mine was He prayeth well, who loveth well ence to all things wrench'd Both man and bird and beast.
that God made With a woful agony,
and loveth. Which forced me to begin my tale; He prayeth best, who loveth best And then it left me free.
All things both great and small; And ever and Since then, at an uncertain hour,
For the dear God who loveth us, anon throughout That agony returns :
He made and loveth all. his future life an
And till my ghastly tale is told, agony constraineth him to travel This heart within me burns.
The Mariner, whose eye is bright, from land to land,
Whose beard with age is hoar,
gone: and now the Wedding-Guest
Turn'd from the bridegroom's door.
He went like one that hath been
A sadder and a wiser man
at either of tho former periods, or if even the first and second part had been published in the year 1800, the impression of its originality would have been
much greater than I dare at present expect. But The first part of the following poem was written in for this
, I have only my own indolence to blame. the year one thousand seven hundred and ninety- The dates are mentioned for the exclusive purpose seven, at Stowey in the county of Somerset. The of preclı ding charges of plagiarism or servile imi
econd part, after my return from Germany, in the tation from myself. For there is amongst us a set of year one thousand eight hundred, at Keswick, Cum- critics, who seem to hold, that every possible thought berland. Since the latter date, my poetic powers and image is traditional; who have no notion that there have been, till very lately, in a state of suspended are such things as fountains in the world, small as animation, But as, in my very first conception of the well as great; and who would therefore charitably tale, I had the whole present to my mind, with the derive every rill they behold flowing, from a perforawholeness, no less than with the loveliness of a tion made in some other man's tank. I am confident, vision, I trust that I shall yet be able to embody in however, that as far as the present poem is concerned, verse the three parts yet to come.
the celebrated poets whose writings I might be sus. It is probable, that is the poem had been finished pected of having imitated, either in particular pas
sages, or in the tone and the spirit of the whole * To the edition of 1816
would be among the first to vindicate me from thi
The lady sprang up suddenly,
charge, and who, on any striking coincidence, would permit me to address them in this doggrel version of two monkish Latin hexameters.
'Tis mine and it is likewise yours;
Am the poorer of the two. I have only to add that the metre of the Christabel is not, properly speaking, irregular, though it may seem so from its being founded on a new principle: namely, that of counting in each line the accents, not the syllables. Though the latter may vary from seven to iwelve, yet in each line the accents will be found to be only four. Nevertheless this occasional variation in number of syllables is not introduced wantonly, or for the mere ends of convenience, but in correspondence with some transition, in the nature of the imagery or passion.
The night is chill; the forest bare ;
Is the night chilly and dark ?
Mary mother, save me now!
The lovely lady, Christabel,
My sire is of a noble line,
She stole along, she nothing spoke,