I saw a third-I heard his voice: It is the Hermit good! He singeth loud his godly hymns That he makes in the wood. He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away The Albatross's blood. VII. “This Hermit good lives in that wood That come from a far countrée. He kneels at morn and noon and eveHe hath a cushion plump : It is the moss that wholly hides The rotted old Oak-stump. The Skiff-boat ner'd: I heard them talk, Where are those lights so many and fair 'Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit saidAnd they answered not our cheer. The planks look warped, and see those sails I never saw aught like to them The skeletons of leaves that lag My forest brook along: When the Ivy-tod is heavy with snow, And the Owlet whoops to the wolf below That eats the she-wolf's young.' 'Dear Lord! it has a fiendish look (The pilot made reply) I am a-feared.'—' Push on, push on!' Said the Hermit cheerily. The Boat came closer to the Ship, The Boat came close beneath the Ship, Under the water it rumbled on, Still louder and more dread : It reached the ship, it split the bay; Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound, Which sky and ocean smote, Like one that hath been seven days drowned My body lay afloat: But, swift as dreams, myself I found Within the Pilot's boat. Upon the whirl, where sank the Ship, I moved my lips: the Pilot shrieked And fell down in a fit. The Holy Hermit raised his eyes I took the oars: the Pilot's boy, Who now doth crazy go, Laughed loud and lor.g, and all the while His eyes went to and fro, Ha! ha!' quoth he- full plain I see, The devil knows how to row.' |