Then Christabel knelt by the lady's side, Again the wild-flower wine she drank: And thus the lofty lady spake- And you love them, and for their sake Quoth Christabel, 'So let it be!' But through her brain of weal and woe Beneath the lamp the lady bow'd, The cincture from beneath her breast: Dropt to her feet, and full in view, Yet Geraldine nor speaks nor stirs ; And with low voice and doleful look These words did say: 'In the touch of this bosom there worketh a spell, Which is lord of thy utterance, Christabel! Thou knowest to-night, and wilt know to-morrow, This mark of my shame, this seal of my sorrow; But vainly thou warrest, For this is alone in Thy power to declare, That in the dim forest Thou heard'st a low moaning, And found'st a bright lady, surpassingly fair; And didst bring her home with thee in love and in charity, To shield her and shelter her from the damp air. THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER. IN SEVEN PARTS. An ancient meeteth three Gallants bid den to a wed. ding-feast, and detaineth one. The Wed PART I. It is an ancient Mariner, By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, L 'The Bridegroom's doors are open'd wide, The guests are met, the feast is set: May'st hear the merry din.' He holds him with his skinny hand, 'Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!' He holds him with his glittering eye― by the eye of And listens like a three years' child: The Mariner hath his will. the old seafaring-man, and constrained to hear his tale. The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone: And thus spake on that ancient man, "The bright-eyed Mariner. The Mariner tells how the ship sailed southward with a good 'The ship was cheer'd, the harbour clear'd, 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 wind and fair Went down into the sea. weather, till it reached the line. 'Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon-' The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, The bride hath paced into the hall, Nodding their heads before her goes The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast, 'And now the storm-blast came, and he He struck with his o'ertaking wings, With sloping masts and dipping prow, The ship drove fast, loud roar'd the blast, And southward aye we fled. And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold: And ice, mast-high, came floating by, And through the drifts the snowy clifts Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken- The ice was here, the ice was there, At crack'd and growl'd, and roar'd and howl'd, The Wedding-Guest heareth the bridal music; but the Mariner continueth his tale. The ship drawn by a storm toward the south pole. The land of ice, and of fearful sounds, where no living thing was to be seen. Till a great sea-bird. called the Albatross, came through At length did cross an Albatross : As if it had been a Christian soul, the snow-fog, We hail'd it in God's name. and was received with great joy and hospitality. And lo! the Albatross proveth a bird of good omen, and followeth the ship as it returned northward through fog and floating ice. The ancient Mariner inhospitably killeth the It ate the food it ne'er had eat, The ice did split with a thunder-fit ; And a good south wind sprung up behind; And every day, for food or play, In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, [white, Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke Glimmer'd the white moon-shine. 'God save thee, ancient Mariner ! From the fiends, that plague thee thus!— pious bird of Why look'st thou so?'-'With my cross-bow good omen. I shot the Albatross!' His ship mates cry out against the ancient Mari ner for killing the bird of good luck. PART II. The Sun now rose upon the right : Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. And the good south wind still blew behind, But no sweet bird did follow, Nor any day for food or play Came to the mariners' hollo! And I had done a hellish thing, For all averr'd, I had kill'd the bird Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay, |