Where are those lights so many and fair, 66 Strange, by my faith!" the Hermit said— The planks look'd warp'd! and see those sail I never saw aught like to them, Unless perchance it were Brown skeletons of leaves that lag My forest-brook along; When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, "Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look- I am a-fear'd". "Push on, push on!" Said the Hermit cheerily. It reach'd the ship, it split the bay; 35 The ship went down like lead. Stunn'd by that loud and dreadful sound, Which sky and ocean smote, Like one that hath been seven days drown'd My body lay afloat; But swift as dreams, myself I found Within the Pilot's boat. 40 Upon the whirl, where sank the ship, I moved my lips-the Pilot shriek'd The holy Hermit raised his eyes, I took the oars: the Pilot's boy, Laugh'd loud and long, and all the while His eyes went to and fro. "Ha! ha!" quoth he, "full plain I see, And now, all in my own countree, 45 50 55 The Hermit stepp'd forth from the boat, 60 "O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man !" The hermit cross'd his brow. "Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say— What manner of man art thou ?" Forthwith this frame of mine was wrench'd 65 With a woful agony, Which forced me to begin my tale; And then it left me free. Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns: And till my ghastly tale is told, This heart within me burns. 70 I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech; That moment that his face I see, 75 I know the man that must hear me: To him my tale I teach. What loud uproar bursts from that door! But in the garden-bower the bride 80 And bride-maids singing are: And hark the little vesper bell, Which biddeth me to prayer! O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been 85 So lonely 't was, that God himself O sweeter than the marriage-feast, "T is sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk To walk together to the kirk, While each to his great Father bends, For the dear God who loveth us, The Mariner, whose eye is bright, He went like one that hath been stunn'd, And is of sense forlorn: A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn. 105 110 COLERIDGE. ASTROLOGY. (Translation from Schiller's Wallenstein.) Countess. The Astrological tower!-How happens it That this same sanctuary, whose access Is to all others so impracticable, Opens before you ev'n at your approach ? Thekla. A dwarfish old man with a friendly face 5 And snow-white hairs, whose gracious services Were mine at first sight, open'd me the doors. Max. That is the Duke's astrologer, old Seni. Thekla. He question'd me on many points; for instance, When I was born, what month, and on what day, 10 Whether by day or in the night. Countess. He wish'd To erect a figure for your horoscope. Thekla. My hand too he examined, shook his head With much sad meaning, and the lines, methought, 15 Did not square over truly with his wishes. [tower? Countess. Well, Princess, and what found you in this My highest privilege has been to snatch 20 Thekla. Colossal statues, and all kings, stood round me A sceptre bore, and on his head a star; And in the tower no other light was there 30 35 But from these stars: all seem'd to come from them. Max. O never rudely will I blame his faith 40 In the might of stars and angels! 'Tis not merely 45 50 |