I saw a third-I heard his voice:

It is the Hermit good!

510 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.

PART VII

"This Hermit good lives in that wood 515 Which slopes down to the sea.

How loudly his sweet voice he rears!
He loves to talk with marineres
That come from a far countree.

He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve

520 He hath a cushion plump:

It is the moss that wholly hides

The rotted old oak-stump.

The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk, 'Why this is strange, I trow!

Like one that hath been seven days drowned
My body lay afloat;

But swift as dreams, myself I found 555 Within the Pilot's boat.

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.

560 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,

565 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.'

'Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit said'And they answered not our cheer!

The planks look warped! and see those sails,

530 How thin they are and sere!

I never saw aught like to them,
Unless perchance it were

Brown skeletons of leaves that lag
My forest-brook along;

535 When the ivy-tod1 is heavy with snow, And the owlet whoops to the wolf below, That eats the she-wolf's young.'

'Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look'(The Pilot made reply)

540 I am a-feared'-'Push on, push on!' Said the Hermit cheerily.

The boat came closer to the ship,
But I nor spake nor stirred;
The boat came close beneath the ship,
545 And straight a sound was heard.

Under the water it rumbled on,
Still louder and more dread:
It reached the ship, it split the bay;
The ship went down like lead.

550 Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound, Which sky and ocean smote,

513-545. The Hermit of the Wood approacheth the ship with wonder.

546-549. The ship suddenly sinketh.

1 ivy-bush

I stood on the firm land!

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

'Oh shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!' 575 The Hermit crossed his brow.1

'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,

580 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, 585 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:

590 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

550-573. The ancient Mariner is saved in the Pilot's boat.

574-581. The ancient Mariner earnestly entreateth the Hermit to shrieve him; and the penance of life falls on him.

582-625. And ever and anon throughout his future life an agony constraineth him to travel from land to land and to teach, by his own example, love and reverence to all things that God made and loveth.

1 made the sign of the cross on his forehead

343

Ever and aye, by shine and shower, Sixteen short howls, not over loud; Some say, she sees my lady's shroud.

Is the night chilly and dark?

5

15 The night is chilly, but not dark. Dec. 15

The thin gray cloud is spread on high, It covers but not hides the sky. The moon is behind, and at the full; And yet she looks both small and dull. 20 The night is chill, the cloud is gray: 'Tis a month before the month of May, And the Spring comes slowly up this way.

The lovely lady, Christabel,

Whom her father loves so well,

25 What makes her in the wood so late,
A furlong from the castle gate?
She had dreams all yesternight

Of her own betrothéd knight;

And she in the midnight wood will pray 30 For the weal of her lover that's far away.

She stole along, she nothing spoke,
The sighs she heaved were soft and low,
And naught was green upon the oak
But moss and rarest mistletoe:

35 She kneels beneath the huge oak tree, And in silence prayeth she.

The lady sprang up suddenly,
The lovely lady, Christabel!

It moaned as near, as near can be,
40 But what it is she cannot tell.-
On the other side it seems to be,
Of the huge, broad-breasted, old oak tree.

The night is chill; the forest bare; Is it the wind that moaneth bleak? 45 There is not wind enough in the air To move away the ringlet curl From the lovely lady's cheekThere is not wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, 50 That dances as often as dance it can, Hanging so light, and hanging so high, On the topmost twig that looks up at the

sky.

Hush, beating heart of Christabel!
Jesu, Maria, shield her well!

55 She folded her arms beneath her cloak, And stole to the other side of the oak. What sees she there?

There she sees a damsel bright,
Drest in a silken robe of white,

60 That shadowy in the moonlight shone:
The neck that made that white robe wan,

16

And once we crossed the shade of night.
As sure as Heaven shall rescue me,

90 I have no thought what men they be;
Nor do I know how long it is
(For I have lain entranced I wis)
Since one, the tallest of the five,
Took me from the palfrey's back,
95 A weary woman, scarce alive.

Some muttered words his comrades spoke:
He placed me underneath this oak;
He swore they would return with haste;
Whither they went I cannot tell-
100 I thought I heard, some minutes past,
Sounds as of a castle bell.

Stretch forth thy hand"-thus ended she

"And help a wretched maid to flee."

145 Outside her kennel, the mastiff old
Lay fast asleep, in moonshine cold.
The mastiff old did not awake,
Yet she an angry moan did make!
And what can ail the mastiff bitch?
Never till now she uttered yell
Beneath the eye of Christabel.
Perhaps it is the owlet's scritch:
For what can ail the mastiff bitch ?2

150

1 Geraldine was an evil spirit and was unable without aid to cross the threshold, which had been blessed to keep evil spirits away.

2 Animals were supposed to know when supernatural beings were near.

They passed the hall, that echoes still, 155 Pass as lightly as you will!

The brands were flat, the brands were dying,

Amid their own white ashes lying;

But when the lady passed, there came
A tongue of light, a fit of flame;
160 And Christabel saw the lady's eye,
And nothing else saw she thereby,

Save the boss of the shield of Sir Leoline
tall,

Which hung in a murky old niche in the wall.

"O softly tread," said Christabel, 165 My father seldom sleepeth well."

Sweet Christabel her feet doth bare, And jealous of the listening air They steal their way from stair to stair, Now in glimmer, and now in gloom, 170 And now they pass the Baron's room, As still as death, with stifled breath! And now have reached her chamber door; And now doth Geraldine press down The rushes of the chamber floor.

75 The moon shines dim in the open air, And not a moonbeam enters here. But they without its light can see The chamber carved so curiously, Carved with figures strange and sweet, 180 All made out of the carver's brain, For a lady's chamber meet:

The lamp with twofold silver chain
Is fastened to an angel's feet.

The silver lamp burns dead and dim; 185 But Christabel the lamp will trim. She trimmed the lamp, and made it bright, And left it swinging to and fro, While Geraldine, in wretched plight, Sank down upon the floor below.

190 weary lady, Geraldine,

I pray you, drink this cordial wine!
It is a wine of virtuous powers;
My mother made it of wild flowers."

"And will your mother pity me,
195 Who am a maiden most forlorn?"
Christabel answered: "Woe is me!
She died the hour that I was born.
I have heard the gray-haired friar tell
How on her death-bed she did say,
200 That she should hear the castle-bell

Strike twelve upon my wedding-day.
O mother dear! that thou wert here!"
"I would," said Geraldine, "she were!"'