"Upon the whirl, where sank the ship,
The boat spun round and round;
And all was still, save that the hill
Was telling of the sound.

"I moved my lips-the Pilot shrieked And fell down in a fit ;

The holy Hermit raised his eyes,
And prayed where he did sit.

"I took the oars: the Pilot's boy, Who now doth crazy go,

Laughed loud and long, and all the while His eyes went to and fro.

'Ha ha!' quoth he, full plain I see,

The Devil knows how to row.'

"And now, all in my own countree,

I stood on the firm land!

The Hermit stepped forth from the boat, And scarcely he could stand.

The ancient Ma❝() shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!'
The Hermit crossed his brow,

riner earnestly entreateth the Hermit to shrieve him; and the

penance of life falls on him:

And ever and
anon throughout
his future life an
agony constrain-
eth him to travel
from land to
land,

528

'Say quick,' quoth he, I bid thee say-
What manner of man art thou?'

"Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched 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.

"I pass, like night, from land to land;
I have strange power of speech ;

That moment that his face I see,

I know the man that must hear me :
To him my tale I teach.

"What loud uproar bursts from that door!

The wedding-guests are there:

But in the garden-bower the bride

And bride-maids singing are:

And hark the little vesper bell,

Which biddeth me to prayer!

"O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been.
Alone on a wide, wide sea:

So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.

"O sweeter than the marriage-feast,

"Tis sweeter far to me,

To walk together to the kirk,

With a goodly company!

"To walk together to the kirk,

And all together pray,

While each to his great Father bends,

Old men, and babes, and loving friends,

And youths and maidens gay!

2 M

The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
Whose beard with age is hoar,

Is gone and now the Wedding-Guest
Turned from the Bridegroom's door.

He went like one that hath been stunned,

And is of sense forlorn:

A sadder and a wiser man

He rose the morrow morn.