The ship hath Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,

been sudden

ly becalmed.

And the albatross begins to be avenged.

A spirit had followed

them; one of the invisible

'Twas sad as sad could be ;

And we did speak only to break

The silence of the sea!

All in a hot and copper sky,

The bloody sun, at noon,

Right up above the mast did stand,

No bigger than the moon.

Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: O Christ!

That ever this should be!

Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs

Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue and white.

And some in dreams assured were
Of the spirit that plagued us so;

Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow.

inhabitants
of this planet,
neither de-

parted souls
nor angels;

concerning whom the learned Jew, Josephus, and the Platonic Constantinopolitan, Michael Psellus, may be consulted. They are very numerous, and there is no cli mate or element without one or more.

And every tongue, through utter drought,
Was withered at the root;

We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.

Ah! well a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the albatross
About my neck was hung.

PART III..

THERE passed a weary time. Each throat

Was parched, and glazed each eye.
A weary time! a weary time!
How glazed each weary eye,
When looking westward, I beheld
A something in the sky.

At first it seemed a little speck,
And then it seemed a mist;

It moved and moved, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.

The shipmates, in their sore distress,

would fain throw the whole guilt on the ancient Mariner: in sign. whereof they hång the dead sea-bird round his neck.

The ancient Mariner beholdeth a sign in the element afar off.

At its nearer approach, it seemeth him to be a ship; and at a dear ransom he freeth his speech from

the bonds of thirst.

A flash of joy;

And horror follows. For can it be a ship that

comes on

ward without

wind or tide?

It seemeth him but the

skeleton of a

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
And still it neared and neared:
As if it dodged a water-sprite,
It plunged and tacked and veered.

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
We could nor laugh nor wail;

Through utter drought all dumb we stood!
I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,

And cried, A sail! a sail!

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
Agape they heard me call:

Gramercy! they for joy did grin,

And all at once their breath drew in,
As they were drinking all.

See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more!
Hither to work us weal;

Without a breeze, without a tide,
She steadies with upright keel!

The western wave was all a-flame.
The day was well nigh done!

Almost upon the western wave

Rested the broad bright sun;

When that strange shape drove suddenly

Betwixt us and the sun.

•And straight the sun was flecked with bars,

(Heaven's Mother send us grace!)

ship.

As if through a dungeon-grate he peered
With broad and burning face.

Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
How fast she nears and nears!

Are those her sails that glance in the sun,
Like restless gossameres?

Are those her ribs through which the sun
Did peer, as through a grate?

And is that woman all her crew?
Is that a Death? and are there two?
Is Death that woman's mate?

Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold:
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Night-mare Life-in-Death was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.

The naked hulk alongside came,
And the twain were casting dice;
"The game is done! I've, I've won!"
Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out;
At one stride comes the dark;
With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea,
Off shot the spectre-bark.

We listened and looked sideways up!
Fear at my heart, as at a cup,

And its ribs

are seen as bars on the face of the setting sun. The spectrewoman and her deathmate, and no other on board the skeletonship. Like vessel, like crew!

Death and Life-in-death have diced for the ship's crew, and she (the latter) winneth the ancient Mariner.

No twilight within the courts of the sun.

At the rising of the moon.

One after another,

His shipmates drop down dead.

But Life-inDeath begins ber

work on the ancient Mariner.

My life-blood seemed to sip!

The stars were dim, and thick the night,

The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white:
From the sails the dew did drip-

Till clomb above the eastern bar

The horned moon, with one bright star
Within the nether tip.

One after one, by the star-dogged moon,
Too quick for groan or sigh,

Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,
And cursed me with his eye.

Four times fifty living men,
(And I heard nor sigh nor groan)
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
They dropped down one by one.

The souls did from their bodies fly,-
They fled to bliss or woe!

And every soul, it passed me by,

Like the whizz of my cross-bow!

PART IV.

The wedding "I FEAR thee, ancient Mariner!

guest feareth that a spirit is talking to him.

I fear thy skinny hand!

And thou art long, and lank, and brown,
As is the ribbed sea-sand.1

For the last two lines of this stanza, I am indebted to