PART III. THERE passed a weary time. Each Was parched, and glazed each eye. The ancient When looking westward, I beheld Mariner be holdeth a A something in the sky. sign in the element afar off At first it seemed a little speck, It moved and moved, and took at last A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! And still it neared and neared: It plunged and tacked and veered. At its nearer With throats unslaked, with black lips approach, it seemeth him to be a baked, ship; and at We could nor laugh nor wail; a dear ran som he freeth his speech from thirst. Through utter drought all dumb we stood ! the bonds of 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. A flash of joy ; See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more! And horror Hither to work us weal, Without a breeze, without a tide, The western wave was all a-flame. Rested the broad bright Sun; When that strange shape drove suddenly Betwixt us and the Sun. follows. For can it be a ship that comes onward without wind or tide? And straight the Sun was flecked with It seemeth bars, (Heaven's Mother send us grace!) As if through a dungeon-grate he peered 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 ? him but the skeleton of a ship. And its ribs Are those her ribs through which the are seen as bars on the face of the Sun setting Sun. Did peer, as through a grate? The Spec tre-Woman And is that Woman all her crew? and her Deathmate, and no other on board the skeletonship. Is that a Death? and are there two? Her lips were red, her looks were free, Like vessel, Her locks were yellow as gold: Her skin was as white as leprosy, like crew! The Night-mare Life-in-Death was she, Death and The naked hulk alongside came, Life-in Death have And the twain were casting dice; 'The game is done! I've won! I've won!' diced for the ship's crew, and she (the latter) win- Quoth she, and whistles thrice. neth the an cient Mariner. The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: No twilight At one stride comes the dark; within the courts of the With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea, Off shot the spectre-bark. Sun. At the rising We listened and looked sideways up! of the Moon. Fear at my heart, as at a cup, 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 One after one, by the star-dogged 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, The souls did from their bodies fly, They fled to bliss or woe! One after another, His ship mates drop down dead. But Life-inDeath begins her work on the ancient Mariner. PART IV. The Wedding-Guest "I FEAR thee, ancient Mariner! feareth that I fear thy skinny hand! a Spirit is talking to him. And thou art long, and lank, and brown, I fear thee and thy glittering eye, But the an- "Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding cient Ma riner as sureth him Guest! of his bodily This body dropt not down. penance. He despiseth the Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea! And never a saint took pity on The many men, so beautiful! creatures of And they all dead did lie : the calm. And a thousand thousand slimy things *For the last two lines of this stanza, I am indebted to Mr. Wordsworth. It was on a delightful walk from Nether Stowey to Dulverton, with him and his sister, in the autumn of 1797, that this poem was planned, and in part composed. |