LINENOTES:

[1021:1]Now first published from Cottle's MSS. preserved in the Library of Rugby School.

[40-43]In diff'rent heights, so aptly hung, that allIn half-heard murmurs and loud bursts sublime,Shrill discords and most soothing melodies,Raises one great concent—one concent formed,Thus God, the only universal Soul—Alternative version, MS. R.

In diff'rent heights, so aptly hung, that allIn half-heard murmurs and loud bursts sublime,Shrill discords and most soothing melodies,Raises one great concent—one concent formed,Thus God, the only universal Soul—

Alternative version, MS. R.

[Videante, pp. 53, 48]

As the tir'd savage, who his drowsy frameHad bask'd beneath the sun's unclouded flame,Awakes amid the troubles of the air,The skiey deluge and white lightning's glare,Aghast he scours before the tempest's sweep,5And sad recalls the sunny hour of sleep!So tost by storms along life's wild'ring wayMine eye reverted views that cloudless day,When by my native brook I wont to rove,WhileHopewith kisses nurs'd the infantLove!10Dear native brook! like peace so placidlySmoothing thro' fertile fields thy current meek—Dear native brook! where first youngPoesyStar'd wildly eager in her noon-tide dream;[1024]Where blameless Pleasures dimpled Quiet's cheek,15As water-liliesripplethy slow stream!How many various-fated years have past,What blissful and what anguish'd hours, since lastI skimm'd the smooth thin stone along thy breastNumb'ring its light leaps! Yet so deep imprest20Sink the sweet scenes of childhood, that mine eyesI never shut amid the sunny blaze,But strait, with all their tints, thy waters rise,The crossing plank, and margin's willowy maze,And bedded sand, that, vein'd with various dyes,25Gleam'd thro' thy bright transparence to the gaze—Ah! fair tho' faint those forms of memory seemLike Heaven's bright bow on thy smooth evening stream.

Dear native brook! like peace so placidlySmoothing thro' fertile fields thy current meek—Dear native brook! where first youngPoesyStar'd wildly eager in her noon-tide dream;[1024]Where blameless Pleasures dimpled Quiet's cheek,15As water-liliesripplethy slow stream!How many various-fated years have past,What blissful and what anguish'd hours, since lastI skimm'd the smooth thin stone along thy breastNumb'ring its light leaps! Yet so deep imprest20Sink the sweet scenes of childhood, that mine eyesI never shut amid the sunny blaze,But strait, with all their tints, thy waters rise,The crossing plank, and margin's willowy maze,And bedded sand, that, vein'd with various dyes,25Gleam'd thro' thy bright transparence to the gaze—Ah! fair tho' faint those forms of memory seemLike Heaven's bright bow on thy smooth evening stream.

[1023:1]First published inThe Watchman, No. V, April 2, 1796: reprinted in Note 39 (p. 566) ofP. W., 1892. The Editor (J. D. Campbell) points out that this poem as printed inThe Watchmanis made up of lines 71-86 ofLines on an Autumnal Evening(videante, p. 53), of lines 2-11 ofSonnet to the River Otter, and of lines 13, 14 ofThe Gentle Look, andAnna and Harland.

[Add. (MSS.) 34,225. f. 5. Videante, p. 131.]

Auspicious Reverence! Hush all meaner song,Till we the deep prelusive strain have pour'dTo the Great Father, only Rightful King,Eternal Father! king omnipotent;Beneath whose shadowing banners wide-unfurl'd5Justice leads forth her tyrant-quelling Hosts.Such Symphony demands best Instrument.Seize, then, my Soul, from Freedom's trophied domeThe harp which hanging high between the shieldsOf Brutus and Leonidas, oft gives10A fitful music, when with breeze-like TouchGreat Spirits passing thrill its wings: the BardListens and knows, thy will to work by Fame.For what is Freedom, but the unfetter'd useOf all the powers which God for use had given?15But chiefly this, him first to view, him last,Thro' shapes, and sounds, and all the world of sense,The change of empires, and the deeds of ManTranslucent, as thro' clouds that veil the Light.But most, O Man! in thine in wasted Sense20And the still growth of Immortality[1025]Image of God, and his Eternity.But some there are who deem themselves most wiseWhen they within this gross and visible sphereChain down the winged thought, scoffing ascent25Proud in their meanness—and themselves they mockWith noisy emptiness of learned phraseTheir subtle fluids, impacts, essences,Self-working tools, uncaused effects, and allThose blind Omniscients, those Almighty Slaves,30Untenanting Creation of its God!But properties are God: the Naked Mass(If Mass there be, at best a guess obscure,)Acts only by its inactivity.Here we pause humbly. Others boldlier dream,35That as one body is the AggregateOf Atoms numberless, each organiz'd,So by a strange and dim similitudeInfinite myriads of self-conscious mindsForm one all-conscious Spirit, who controlls40With absolute ubiquity of ThoughtAll his component Monads: linked Minds,Each in his own sphere evermore evolvingIts own entrusted powers—Howe'er this be,Whether a dream presumptious, caught from earth45And earthly form, or vision veiling Truth,Yet the Omnific Father of all WorldsGod in God immanent, the eternal Word,That gives forth, yet remains—Sun, that at onceDawns, rises, sets and crowns the Height of Heaven,50Great general Agent in all finite souls,Doth in that action put on finiteness,For all his Thoughts are acts, and every actA Being of Substance; God impersonal,Yet in all worlds impersonate in all,55Absolute Infinite, whose dazzling robeFlows in rich folds, and darts in shooting HuesOf infinite Finiteness! he rolls each orbMatures each planet, and Tree, and spread thro' allWields all the Universe of Life and Thought,60[Yet leaves to all the Creatures meanest, highest,Angelic Right, self-conscious Agency—]

Seize, then, my Soul, from Freedom's trophied domeThe harp which hanging high between the shieldsOf Brutus and Leonidas, oft gives10A fitful music, when with breeze-like TouchGreat Spirits passing thrill its wings: the BardListens and knows, thy will to work by Fame.For what is Freedom, but the unfetter'd useOf all the powers which God for use had given?15But chiefly this, him first to view, him last,Thro' shapes, and sounds, and all the world of sense,The change of empires, and the deeds of ManTranslucent, as thro' clouds that veil the Light.But most, O Man! in thine in wasted Sense20And the still growth of Immortality[1025]Image of God, and his Eternity.But some there are who deem themselves most wiseWhen they within this gross and visible sphereChain down the winged thought, scoffing ascent25Proud in their meanness—and themselves they mockWith noisy emptiness of learned phraseTheir subtle fluids, impacts, essences,Self-working tools, uncaused effects, and allThose blind Omniscients, those Almighty Slaves,30Untenanting Creation of its God!

But properties are God: the Naked Mass(If Mass there be, at best a guess obscure,)Acts only by its inactivity.Here we pause humbly. Others boldlier dream,35That as one body is the AggregateOf Atoms numberless, each organiz'd,So by a strange and dim similitudeInfinite myriads of self-conscious mindsForm one all-conscious Spirit, who controlls40With absolute ubiquity of ThoughtAll his component Monads: linked Minds,Each in his own sphere evermore evolvingIts own entrusted powers—Howe'er this be,Whether a dream presumptious, caught from earth45And earthly form, or vision veiling Truth,Yet the Omnific Father of all WorldsGod in God immanent, the eternal Word,That gives forth, yet remains—Sun, that at onceDawns, rises, sets and crowns the Height of Heaven,50Great general Agent in all finite souls,Doth in that action put on finiteness,For all his Thoughts are acts, and every actA Being of Substance; God impersonal,Yet in all worlds impersonate in all,55Absolute Infinite, whose dazzling robeFlows in rich folds, and darts in shooting HuesOf infinite Finiteness! he rolls each orbMatures each planet, and Tree, and spread thro' allWields all the Universe of Life and Thought,60[Yet leaves to all the Creatures meanest, highest,Angelic Right, self-conscious Agency—]

[Note.The last two lines of Draft I are erased.]

Auspicious Reverence! Hush all meaner song,Ere we the deep prelusive strain have pour'dTo the Great Father, only Rightful kingAll-gracious Father, king Omnipotent!Mind! co-eternal Word! forth-breathing Sound!5Aye unconfounded: undivided Trine—Birth and Procession; ever re-incircling Act!God in God immanent, distinct yet one!Omnific, Omniform. The Immoveable,That goes forth and remains, eke——and at once10Dawns, rises, and sets and crowns the height of Heaven!

[Cf.Anima Poetæ, 1895, p. 162.]

Such Symphony demands best Instrument.Seize then, my soul! from Freedom's trophied dome.The harp which hanging high between the shieldsOf Brutus and Leonidas, gives oft15A fateful Music, when with breeze-like TouchPure spirits thrill its strings: the Poet's heartListens, and smiling knows that Poets demandOnce more to live for Man and work by Fame:For what is Freedom, but th' unfetter'd use20Of all the Powers, which God for use had given!Thro' the sweet Influence of harmonious Word——

And cheats us with false prophecies of sound

[9]i. e. jure suo, by any inherent Right.

i. e. jure suo, by any inherent Right.

Auspicious Reverence! Hush all meaner song,Till we the deep prelusive strain have pour'dTo the Great Father, only Rightful king,All Gracious Father, king Omnipotent!To Him, the inseparate, unconfoundedTrine,5Mind! Co-eternalWord! Forth-breathingSound!Birth! andProcession! Ever-circlingAct!GOD in GOD immanent, distinct yet one!Sole Rest, true Substance of all finite Being!Omnific! Omniform! The Immoveable,10That goes forth and remaineth: and at onceDawns, rises, sets and crowns the height of Heaven!* * * * *Such Symphony demands best Instrument.Seize then, my Soul! from Freedom's trophied domeThe Harp, that hanging high between the Shields15Of Brutus and Leonidas, flashes forthStarts of shrill-music, when with breeze-like TouchDeparted Patriots thrill the——

* * * * *

Such Symphony demands best Instrument.Seize then, my Soul! from Freedom's trophied domeThe Harp, that hanging high between the Shields15Of Brutus and Leonidas, flashes forthStarts of shrill-music, when with breeze-like TouchDeparted Patriots thrill the——

[Videante, p. 131]

Book I, ll. 33-51.

"O France," he cried, "my country"!When soft as breeze that curls the summer cloudsAt close of day, stole on his ear a voice35Seraphic."Son of Orleans! grieve no more.His eye not slept, tho' long the All-just endured[1028]The woes of France; at length his bar'd right armVolleys red thunder. From his veiling cloudsRushes the storm, Ruin and Fear and Death.40Take Son of Orleans the relief of Heaven:Nor thou the wintry hours of adverse fateDream useless: tho' unhous'd thou roam awhile,The keen and icy wind that shiverstheeShall brace thine arm, and with stern discipline45Firm thy strong heart for fearless enterpriseAs who, through many a summer night sereneHad hover'd round the fold with coward wish;Horrid with brumal ice, the fiercer wolfFrom his bleak mountain and his den of snows50Leaps terrible and mocks the shepherd's spears."

ll. 57-59.

nor those ingredients direErictho mingled on Pharsalia's field,Making the soul retenant its cold corse.

ll. 220-222.

the groves of ParadiseGave their mild echoes to the choral songsOf new-born beings.—

ll. 267-280.

And oft the tear from his averted eyeHe dried; mindful of fertile fields laid waste,Dispeopled hamlets, the lorn widow's groan,And the pale orphan's feeble cry for bread.270But when he told of those fierce sons of guiltThat o'er this earth which God had fram'd so fair—Spread desolation, and its wood-crown'd hillsMake echo to the merciless war-dog's howl;And how himself from such foul savagery275Had scarce escap'd with life, then his stretch'd armSeem'd, as it wielded the resistless swordOf Vengeance: in his eager eye the soulWas eloquent; warm glow'd his manly cheek;And beat against his side the indignant heart.280

ll. 454-460.

then methoughtFrom a dark lowering cloud, the womb of tempests,455A giant arm burst forth and dropt a swordThat pierc'd like lightning thro' the midnight air.Then was there heard a voice, which in mine earShall echo, at that hour of dreadful joyWhen the pale foe shall wither in my rage.460

ll. 484-496[1029:1]

Last evening lone in thought I wandered forth.Down in the dingle's depth there is a brook485That makes its way between the craggy stones,Murmuring hoarse murmurs. On an aged oakWhose root uptorn by tempests overhangsThe stream, I sat, and mark'd the deep red cloudsGather before the wind, while the rude dash490Of waters rock'd my senses, and the mistsRose round: there as I gazed, a form dim-seenDescended, like the dark and moving cloudsThat in the moonbeam change their shadowy shapes.His voice was on the breeze; he bade me hail495The missioned Maid! for lo! the hour was come.

Book III, ll. 73-82.

Martyr'd patriots—spirits pureWept by the good ye fell! Yet still survivesSow'd by your toil and by your blood manur'd75Th' imperishable seed, soon to becomeThe Tree, beneath whose vast and mighty shadeThe sons of men shall pitch their tents in peace,And in the unity of truth preserveThe bond of love. For by the eye of God80Hath Virtue sworn, that never one good actWas work'd in vain.

Book IV, ll. 328-336.

The murmuring tideLull'd her, and many a pensive pleasing dreamRose in sad shadowy trains at Memory's call.330She thought of Arc, and of the dingled brook,[1030]Whose waves oft leaping on their craggy courseMade dance the low-hung willow's dripping twigs;And where it spread into a glassy lake,Of the old oak which on the smooth expanse,335Imag'd its hoary mossy-mantled boughs.

[1027:1]Over and above the contributions to the Second Book of theJoan of Arc, which Southey acknowledged, and which were afterwards embodied in theDestiny of Nations, Coleridge claimed a number of passages in Books I, III, and IV. The passages are marked by S. T. C. in an annotated copy of the First Edition 4o, at one time the property of Coleridge's friend W. Hood of Bristol, and afterwards of John Taylor Brown. SeeNorth British Review, January, 1864.

[1029:1]Suggested and in part written by S. T. C.

[37]not slept] slept notMS. corr. by Southey.

not slept] slept notMS. corr. by Southey.

[39]red] S. T. C. notes this word as Southey's.

red] S. T. C. notes this word as Southey's.

[46]Firm] S. T. C. writes against this wordNot English.

Firm] S. T. C. writes against this wordNot English.

[Videante, p. 186.]

ARGUMENT

How a Ship having passed the Line was driven by Storms to the cold Country towards the South Pole; and how from thence she made her course to the Tropical Latitude of the Great Pacific Ocean; and of the strange things that befell; and in what manner the Ancyent Marinere came back to his own Country.

It is an ancyent Marinere,And he stoppeth one of three:"By thy long grey beard and thy glittering eye"Now wherefore stoppest me?"The Bridegroom's doors are open'd wide,5"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—There was a Ship, quoth he—10"Nay, if thou'st got a laughsome tale,"Marinere! come with me."[1031]He holds him with his skinny hand,Quoth he, there was a Ship—"Now get thee hence, thou grey-beard Loon!15"Or my Staff shall make thee skip.He holds him with his glittering eye—The wedding guest stood stillAnd listens like a three year's child;The Marinere hath his will.20The wedding-guest sate on a stone,He cannot chuse but hear:And thus spake on that ancyent man,The bright-eyed Marinere.The Ship was cheer'd, the Harbour clear'd—25Merrily did we dropBelow the Kirk, below the Hill,Below the Light-house top.The Sun came up upon the left,Out of the Sea came he:30And he shone bright, and on the rightWent down into the Sea.Higher and higher every day,Till over the mast at noon—The wedding-guest here beat his breast,35For he heard the loud bassoon.The Bride hath pac'd into the Hall,Red as a rose is she;Nodding their heads before her goesThe merry Minstralsy.40The wedding-guest he beat his breast,Yet he cannot chuse but hear:And thus spake on that ancyent Man,The bright-eyed Marinere.Listen, Stranger! Storm and Wind,45A Wind and Tempest strong!For days and weeks it play'd us freaks—Like Chaff we drove along.Listen, Stranger! Mist and Snow,And it grew wond'rous cauld:50And Ice mast-high came floating byAs green as Emerauld.[1032]And thro' the drifts the snowy cliftsDid send a dismal sheen;Ne shapes of men ne beasts we ken—55The Ice was all between.The Ice was here, the Ice was there,The Ice was all around:It crack'd and growl'd, and roar'd and howl'd—Like noises of a swound.60At length did cross an Albatross,Thorough the Fog it came;And an it were a Christian Soul,We hail'd it in God's name.The Marineres gave it biscuit-worms,65And round and round it flew:The Ice did split with a Thunder-fit,The Helmsman steer'd us thro'.And a good south wind sprung up behind.The Albatross did follow;70And every day for food or playCame to the Marinere's hollo!In mist or cloud on mast or shroud,It perch'd for vespers nine,Whiles all the night thro' fog smoke-white,75Glimmer'd the white moon-shine."God save thee, ancyent Marinere!"From the fiends that plague thee thus—"Why look'st thou so?"—with my cross bowI shot the Albatross.80

It is an ancyent Marinere,And he stoppeth one of three:"By thy long grey beard and thy glittering eye"Now wherefore stoppest me?

"The Bridegroom's doors are open'd wide,5"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—There was a Ship, quoth he—10"Nay, if thou'st got a laughsome tale,"Marinere! come with me."

[1031]He holds him with his skinny hand,Quoth he, there was a Ship—"Now get thee hence, thou grey-beard Loon!15"Or my Staff shall make thee skip.

He holds him with his glittering eye—The wedding guest stood stillAnd listens like a three year's child;The Marinere hath his will.20

The wedding-guest sate on a stone,He cannot chuse but hear:And thus spake on that ancyent man,The bright-eyed Marinere.

The Ship was cheer'd, the Harbour clear'd—25Merrily did we dropBelow the Kirk, below the Hill,Below the Light-house top.

The Sun came up upon the left,Out of the Sea came he:30And he shone bright, and on the rightWent down into the Sea.

Higher and higher every day,Till over the mast at noon—The wedding-guest here beat his breast,35For he heard the loud bassoon.

The Bride hath pac'd into the Hall,Red as a rose is she;Nodding their heads before her goesThe merry Minstralsy.40

The wedding-guest he beat his breast,Yet he cannot chuse but hear:And thus spake on that ancyent Man,The bright-eyed Marinere.

Listen, Stranger! Storm and Wind,45A Wind and Tempest strong!For days and weeks it play'd us freaks—Like Chaff we drove along.

Listen, Stranger! Mist and Snow,And it grew wond'rous cauld:50And Ice mast-high came floating byAs green as Emerauld.

[1032]And thro' the drifts the snowy cliftsDid send a dismal sheen;Ne shapes of men ne beasts we ken—55The Ice was all between.

The Ice was here, the Ice was there,The Ice was all around:It crack'd and growl'd, and roar'd and howl'd—Like noises of a swound.60

At length did cross an Albatross,Thorough the Fog it came;And an it were a Christian Soul,We hail'd it in God's name.

The Marineres gave it biscuit-worms,65And round and round it flew:The Ice did split with a Thunder-fit,The Helmsman steer'd us thro'.

And a good south wind sprung up behind.The Albatross did follow;70And every day for food or playCame to the Marinere's hollo!

In mist or cloud on mast or shroud,It perch'd for vespers nine,Whiles all the night thro' fog smoke-white,75Glimmer'd the white moon-shine.

"God save thee, ancyent Marinere!"From the fiends that plague thee thus—"Why look'st thou so?"—with my cross bowI shot the Albatross.80

The Sun came up upon the right,Out of the Sea came he;And broad as a weft upon the leftWent down into the Sea.And the good south wind still blew behind,85But no sweet Bird did followNe any day for food or playCame to the Marinere's hollo![1033]And I had done an hellish thingAnd it would work 'em woe:90For all averr'd, I had kill'd the BirdThat made the Breeze to blow.Ne dim ne red, like God's own head,The glorious Sun uprist:Then all averr'd, I had kill'd the Bird95That brought the fog and mist.'Twas right, said they, such birds to slayThat bring the fog and mist.The breezes blew, the white foam flew,The furrow follow'd free:100We were the first that ever burstInto that silent Sea.Down dropt the breeze, the Sails dropt down,'Twas sad as sad could beAnd we did speak only to break105The silence of the Sea.All in a hot and copper skyThe bloody sun at noon,Right up above the mast did stand,No bigger than the moon.110Day after day, day after day,We stuck, ne breath ne motion.As idle as a painted ShipUpon a painted Ocean.Water, water, every where,115And all the boards did shrink:Water, water, everywhere,Ne any drop to drink.The very deeps did rot: O Christ!That ever this should be!120Yea, slimy things did crawl with legsUpon the slimy Sea.About, about, in reel and rout,The Death-fires danc'd at night;The water, like a witch's oils,125burnt green and blue and white.[1034]And some in dreams assured wereOf the Spirit that plagued us so:Nine fathom deep he had follow'd usFrom the Land of Mist and Snow.130And every tongue thro' utter drouthWas wither'd at the root;We could not speak no more than ifWe had been choked with soot.Ah wel-a-day! what evil looks135Had I from old and young;Instead of the Cross the AlbatrossAbout my neck was hung.

The Sun came up upon the right,Out of the Sea came he;And broad as a weft upon the leftWent down into the Sea.

And the good south wind still blew behind,85But no sweet Bird did followNe any day for food or playCame to the Marinere's hollo!

[1033]And I had done an hellish thingAnd it would work 'em woe:90For all averr'd, I had kill'd the BirdThat made the Breeze to blow.

Ne dim ne red, like God's own head,The glorious Sun uprist:Then all averr'd, I had kill'd the Bird95That brought the fog and mist.'Twas right, said they, such birds to slayThat bring the fog and mist.

The breezes blew, the white foam flew,The furrow follow'd free:100We were the first that ever burstInto that silent Sea.

Down dropt the breeze, the Sails dropt down,'Twas sad as sad could beAnd we did speak only to break105The silence of the Sea.

All in a hot and copper skyThe bloody sun at noon,Right up above the mast did stand,No bigger than the moon.110

Day after day, day after day,We stuck, ne breath ne motion.As idle as a painted ShipUpon a painted Ocean.

Water, water, every where,115And all the boards did shrink:Water, water, everywhere,Ne any drop to drink.

The very deeps did rot: O Christ!That ever this should be!120Yea, slimy things did crawl with legsUpon the slimy Sea.

About, about, in reel and rout,The Death-fires danc'd at night;The water, like a witch's oils,125burnt green and blue and white.

[1034]And some in dreams assured wereOf the Spirit that plagued us so:Nine fathom deep he had follow'd usFrom the Land of Mist and Snow.130

And every tongue thro' utter drouthWas wither'd at the root;We could not speak no more than ifWe had been choked with soot.

Ah wel-a-day! what evil looks135Had I from old and young;Instead of the Cross the AlbatrossAbout my neck was hung.

I saw a something in the SkyNo bigger than my fist;140At first it seem'd a little speckAnd then it seem'd a mist:It mov'd and mov'd, and took at lastA certain shape, I wist.A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!145And still it ner'd and ner'd;And, an it dodg'd a water-sprite,It plung'd and tack'd and veer'd.With throat unslack'd, with black lips bak'dNe could we laugh, ne wail:150Then while thro' drouth all dumb they stoodI bit my arm and suck'd the bloodAnd cry'd, A sail! a sail!With throat unslack'd, with black lips bak'dAgape they hear'd me call:155Gramercy! they for joy did grinAnd all at once their breath drew inAs they were drinking all.She doth not tack from side to side—Hither to work us weal160Withouten wind, withouten tideShe steddies with upright keel.[1035]The western wave was all a flame,The day was well nigh done!Almost upon the western wave165Rested the broad bright Sun;When that strange shape drove suddenlyBetwixt us and the Sun.And strait the Sun was fleck'd with bars(Heaven's mother send us grace)170As if thro' a dungeon grate he peer'dWith broad and burning face.Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)How fast she neres and neres!Are thoseherSails that glance in the Sun175Like restless gossameres?Are thosehernaked ribs, which fleck'dThe sun that did behind them peer?And are those two all, all the crew,That woman and her fleshless Pheere?180Hisbones were black with many a crack,All black and bare, I ween;Jet-black and bare, save where with rustOf mouldy damps and charnel crustThey're patch'd with purple and green.185Herlips are red,herlooks are free,Herlocks are yellow as gold:Her skin is as white as leprosy,And she is far liker Death than he;Her flesh makes the still air cold.190The naked Hulk alongside cameAnd the Twain were playing dice;"The Game is done! I've won, I've won!"Quoth she, and whistled thrice.A gust of wind sterte up behind195And whistled thro' his bones;Thro' the holes of his eyes and the hole of his mouthHalf-whistles and half-groans.[1036]With never a whisper in the SeaOff darts the Spectre-ship;200While clombe above the Eastern barThe horned Moon, with one bright StarAlmost atween the tips.One after one by the horned Moon(Listen, O Stranger! to me)205Each turn'd his face with a ghastly pangAnd curs'd me with his ee.Four times fifty living men,With never a sigh or groan,With heavy thump, a lifeless lump210They dropp'd down one by one.Their souls did from their bodies fly,—They fled to bliss or woe;And every soul it pass'd me by,Like the whiz of my Cross-bow.215

I saw a something in the SkyNo bigger than my fist;140At first it seem'd a little speckAnd then it seem'd a mist:It mov'd and mov'd, and took at lastA certain shape, I wist.

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!145And still it ner'd and ner'd;And, an it dodg'd a water-sprite,It plung'd and tack'd and veer'd.

With throat unslack'd, with black lips bak'dNe could we laugh, ne wail:150Then while thro' drouth all dumb they stoodI bit my arm and suck'd the bloodAnd cry'd, A sail! a sail!

With throat unslack'd, with black lips bak'dAgape they hear'd me call:155Gramercy! they for joy did grinAnd all at once their breath drew inAs they were drinking all.

She doth not tack from side to side—Hither to work us weal160Withouten wind, withouten tideShe steddies with upright keel.

[1035]The western wave was all a flame,The day was well nigh done!Almost upon the western wave165Rested the broad bright Sun;When that strange shape drove suddenlyBetwixt us and the Sun.

And strait the Sun was fleck'd with bars(Heaven's mother send us grace)170As if thro' a dungeon grate he peer'dWith broad and burning face.

Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)How fast she neres and neres!Are thoseherSails that glance in the Sun175Like restless gossameres?

Are thosehernaked ribs, which fleck'dThe sun that did behind them peer?And are those two all, all the crew,That woman and her fleshless Pheere?180

Hisbones were black with many a crack,All black and bare, I ween;Jet-black and bare, save where with rustOf mouldy damps and charnel crustThey're patch'd with purple and green.185

Herlips are red,herlooks are free,Herlocks are yellow as gold:Her skin is as white as leprosy,And she is far liker Death than he;Her flesh makes the still air cold.190

The naked Hulk alongside cameAnd the Twain were playing dice;"The Game is done! I've won, I've won!"Quoth she, and whistled thrice.

A gust of wind sterte up behind195And whistled thro' his bones;Thro' the holes of his eyes and the hole of his mouthHalf-whistles and half-groans.

[1036]With never a whisper in the SeaOff darts the Spectre-ship;200While clombe above the Eastern barThe horned Moon, with one bright StarAlmost atween the tips.

One after one by the horned Moon(Listen, O Stranger! to me)205Each turn'd his face with a ghastly pangAnd curs'd me with his ee.

Four times fifty living men,With never a sigh or groan,With heavy thump, a lifeless lump210They dropp'd down one by one.

Their souls did from their bodies fly,—They fled to bliss or woe;And every soul it pass'd me by,Like the whiz of my Cross-bow.215

"I fear thee, ancyent Marinere!"I fear thy skinny hand;"And thou art long, and lank, and brown,"As is the ribb'd Sea-sand."I fear thee and thy glittering eye220"And thy skinny hand so brown—Fear not, fear not, thou wedding guest!This body dropt not down.Alone, alone, all all aloneAlone on the wide wide Sea;225And Christ would take no pity onMy soul in agony.The many men so beautiful,And they all dead did lie!And a million million slimy things230Liv'd on—and so did I.I look'd upon the rotting Sea,And drew my eyes away;I look'd upon the eldritch deck,And there the dead men lay.235[1037]I look'd to Heav'n, and try'd to pray;But or ever a prayer had gusht,A wicked whisper came and madeMy heart as dry as dust.I clos'd my lids and kept them close,240Till the balls like pulses beat;For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the skyLay like a load on my weary eye,And the dead were at my feet.The cold sweat melted from their limbs,245Ne rot, ne reek did they;The look with which they look'd on me,Had never pass'd away.An orphan's curse would drag to HellA spirit from on high:250But O! more horrible than thatIs the curse in a dead man's eye!Seven days, seven nights I saw that curse,And yet I could not die.The moving Moon went up the sky,255And no where did abide:Softly she was going upAnd a star or two beside—Her beams bemock'd the sultry mainLike morning frosts yspread;260But where the ship's huge shadow lay,The charmed water burnt alwayA still and awful red.Beyond the shadow of the shipI watch'd the water-snakes:265They mov'd in tracks of shining white;And when they rear'd, the elfish lightFell off in hoary flakes.Within the shadow of the shipI watch'd their rich attire:270Blue, glossy green, and velvet blackThey coil'd and swam; and every trackWas a flash of golden fire.[1038]O happy living things! no tongueTheir beauty might declare:275A spring of love gusht from my heart,And I bless'd them unaware!Sure my kind saint took pity on me,And I bless'd them unaware.The self-same moment I could pray;280And from my neck so freeThe Albatross fell off, and sankLike lead into the sea.

"I fear thee, ancyent Marinere!"I fear thy skinny hand;"And thou art long, and lank, and brown,"As is the ribb'd Sea-sand.

"I fear thee and thy glittering eye220"And thy skinny hand so brown—Fear not, fear not, thou wedding guest!This body dropt not down.

Alone, alone, all all aloneAlone on the wide wide Sea;225And Christ would take no pity onMy soul in agony.

The many men so beautiful,And they all dead did lie!And a million million slimy things230Liv'd on—and so did I.

I look'd upon the rotting Sea,And drew my eyes away;I look'd upon the eldritch deck,And there the dead men lay.235

[1037]I look'd to Heav'n, and try'd to pray;But or ever a prayer had gusht,A wicked whisper came and madeMy heart as dry as dust.

I clos'd my lids and kept them close,240Till the balls like pulses beat;For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the skyLay like a load on my weary eye,And the dead were at my feet.

The cold sweat melted from their limbs,245Ne rot, ne reek did they;The look with which they look'd on me,Had never pass'd away.

An orphan's curse would drag to HellA spirit from on high:250But O! more horrible than thatIs the curse in a dead man's eye!Seven days, seven nights I saw that curse,And yet I could not die.

The moving Moon went up the sky,255And no where did abide:Softly she was going upAnd a star or two beside—

Her beams bemock'd the sultry mainLike morning frosts yspread;260But where the ship's huge shadow lay,The charmed water burnt alwayA still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the shipI watch'd the water-snakes:265They mov'd in tracks of shining white;And when they rear'd, the elfish lightFell off in hoary flakes.

Within the shadow of the shipI watch'd their rich attire:270Blue, glossy green, and velvet blackThey coil'd and swam; and every trackWas a flash of golden fire.

[1038]O happy living things! no tongueTheir beauty might declare:275A spring of love gusht from my heart,And I bless'd them unaware!Sure my kind saint took pity on me,And I bless'd them unaware.

The self-same moment I could pray;280And from my neck so freeThe Albatross fell off, and sankLike lead into the sea.

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