The Wedding-
Guest heareth

the bridal music;
but the Mariner
continueth
his tale.

The ship, drawn

by a storm to

ward the South Pole.

The land of ice, and of fearful sounds, where no living thing was to be seen.

Till a great seabird, called the Albatross, came through the snow-fog, and

was received with

great joy and hospitality.

The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast,
Yet he cannot choose but hear;

And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner:

"And now the Storm-blast came, and he
Was tyrannous and strong:

He struck with his o'ertaking wings,
And chased us south along.

With sloping masts and dipping prow,
As who pursued with yell and blow
Still treads the shadow of his foe,

And forward bends his head,

The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,
And southward aye we fled.

And now there came both mist and snow,
And it grew wondrous cold;

And ice, mast-high, came floating by,
As green as emerald.

And through the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen;

Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken-
The ice was all between.

The ice was here, the ice was there,

The ice was all around:

It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,
Like noises in a swound!

At length did cross an Albatross;
Through the fog it came;

As if it had been a Christian soul,

We hailed it in God's name.

It ate the food it ne'er had eat,

And round and round it flew.
The ice did split with a thunder-fit;
The helmsman steered us through!

And a good south wind sprung up behind;

The Albatross did follow,

And every day, for food or play,

Came to the mariners' hollo!

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,

It perched for vespers nine;

Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,

Glimmered the white moon-shine."

"God save thee, ancient Mariner,

From the fiends, that plague thee thus!

Why look'st thou so?"

I shot the Albatross.

166 With my cross-bow

And lo! the Al-
batross proveth a
bird of good
omen, and fol-
loweth the ship
as it returned
northward,
through fog and
floating ice.

The ancient Mariner inhospitably killeth the pious bird of good omen.

PART II.

The Sun now rose upon the right:
Out of the sea came he,

Still hid in mist, and on the left

Went down into the sea.

And the good south wind still blew behind,

But no sweet bird did follow,

Nor any day for food or play

Came to the mariners' hollo!

His ship-mates cry out against the ancient Mariner, for killing the bird of good luck.

But when the fog cleared off, they justify the same, and thus make themselves accomplices in the crime.

The fair breeze continues; the ship enters the

Pacific Ocean and sails northward, even till it

reaches the Line.

The ship hath been suddenly becalmed.

And I had done a hellish thing,
And it would work 'em woe;

For all averred, I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay,
That made the breeze to blow!

Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,
The glorious Sun uprist.

Then all averred, I had killed the bird

That brought the fog and mist.

'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay, That bring the fog and mist.

The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,
The furrow followed free;

We were the first that ever burst

Into that silent sea.

Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, 'Twas sad as sad could be;

And we did speak only to break

The silence of the sea!

All in a hot and copper sky,

The bloody Sun, at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the Moon.

Day after day, day after day,

We stuck, nor breath nor motion;

As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, everywhere,

And all the boards did shrink;

Water, water, everywhere,

Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: O Christ!
That ever this should be!

Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue, and white.

And some in dreams assured were

Of the spirit that plagued us so: Nine fathom deep he had followed us From the land of mist and snow.

And every tongue, through utter drought,
Was withered at the root;
We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.

Ah, well-a-day! what evil looks

Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross About my neck was hung.

And the Albatross begins to be avenged.

A spirit had followed them; one of the invisible inhabitants of this planet, neither departed souls nor angels; concerning which the learned Jew, Josephus, and the Platonic Con stantinopolitan, Michael Psellus, may be consulted. They are very numerous, and there is no climate or element without one or more.

The ship-mates,
in their sore dis-
tress, would fain
throw the whole
guilt on the an-
cient Mariner; in
sign whereof they
hang the dead
sea-bird round
his neck.

The ancient Mariner beholdeth a sign in the element afar off.

At its nearer approach, it seemeth him to be a ship; and

at a dear ransom he treeth his speech from the bonds of thirst.

A flash of joy;

And horror follows. For can it be a ship that comes onward without wind or tide?

PART III.

There passed a weary time. Each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye.
A weary time! a weary time!
How glazed each weary eye,
When looking westward, I beheld
A something in the sky.

At first it seemed a little speck,
And then it seemed a mist;
It moved and moved, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
And still it neared and neared:
As if it dodged a water-sprite,

It plunged and tacked and veered.

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
We could nor laugh nor wail;

Through utter drought all dumb we stood!
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.

See! see! (I cried), she tacks no more.
Hither to work us weal, -

Without a breeze, without a tide,

She steadies with upright keel!