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,
And it would work 'em woe:
For all averred, I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay,
That made the breeze to blow !
His shipmates cry out against the ancient Mariner, for killing the bird of good luck.
Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,
The glorious Sun uprist:
Then all averred, I had killed the bird
That brought the fog and mist.
'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,
That bring the fog and mist.
But when the fog cleared off, they justify the same, and thus make themselves accomplices in the crime.
The fair breeze blew, the white foam new
The furrow followed free ;
We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent sea.
The fair breeze con tinnes; the ship enters the Pacific Ocean, and sails northward, even till it reaches the Line.
The ship hath been suddenly becalmed.
Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,
'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.
And the Al. batross begins to be avenged.
Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.
The very deep did rot: 0 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.
A spirit had
followed
them; one of
the invisible
And some in dreams assured were
Of the spirit that plagued us so;
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
inhabitants
of this planet, From the land of mist and snow.
neither departed 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 climate 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
The shipmates, in their sore distress, would fain throw the whole guilt on the an cient Mariner: in sign whereof they hang the dead sea-bird round his neck.
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.
The ancient Mariner beholdeth a sign in the element afar off.
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.
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.
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.
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.
And horror follows. For can it be a ship that comes onward without wind or tide ?
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.
It seemeth bim but the skeleton of a ship.
And straight the Sun was flecked with bars,
(Heaven's Mother send us grace !)
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?
And its ribs are seen as bars on the face of the setting Sun. The spectrewoman aud her death mate, and no other on board the skeletonship. Like vessel, like crew!
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.
Death and Life-in-death bave diced for the ship's crew, and she (the latter) winneth the ancient Mariner.
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.
No twilight within the courts of the sun.
We listened and looked sideways up!
Fear at my heart, as at a cup,
At the rising of the Moon.
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