But still he holds the wedding-guest- He holds him with his skinny hand, For a full study of the different texts, see Prof. F. H. Sykes' Select Poems of Coleridge and Wordsworth, edited from Authors' Editions, Toronto, 1899. On the origin of the poem, see Biographia Literaria, Chap XIV, and Words worth's account of it, quoted and discussed in H. D. Traill's Life of Coleridge, pp. 47-50. 1 In the editions of 1798 and 1800 only. 2 An ancient Mariner meeteth three Gallants bidden to a wedding-feast, and detaineth one. [This and the following notes, except those in brackets, are Coleridge's running Summary of the story, first printed in Sybilline Leaves, 1817.] The Wedding-Guest is spell-bound by the eye of the old seafaring man, and constrained to hear his tale. 74 The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone: And thus spake on that ancient man, The ship was cheered, the harbor cleared, Merrily did we drop Below the kirk, below the hill, 1 The sun came up upon the left, And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea. Higher and higher every day, The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, 2 The bride hath paced into the hall, Nodding their heads before her goes The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast, "And now the Storm-blast came, and he Was tyrannous and strong: He struck with his o'ertaking wings, With sloping masts and dipping prow, 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: The Mariner tells how the ship sailed southward with a good wind and fair weather, till it reached the line. 2 The Wedding Guest heareth the bridal music; but the Mariner continueth his tale. The ship drawn by a storm toward the south pole. The land of ice, and of fearful sounds, where no living thing was to be seen. And through the drifts the snowy clifts Did send a dismal sheen: Nor shapes of men nor beasts we kenThe ice was all between. The ice was here, the ice was there, It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like voices in a swound! 1 At length did cross an Albatross, It ate the food it ne'er had eat, 2 And a good south wind sprung up be hind; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, Glimmered the white moon-shine." 8 "God save thee, ancient Mariner! From the fiends, that plague thee thus!- Why look'st thou so?"-" With my cross-bow I shot the Albatross. PART II "The Sun now rose upon the right: Still hid in mist, and on the left And the good south wind still blew be hind, But no sweet bird did follow, 1 Till a great sea bird, called the Alcatross, came through the snow-fog, and was received with great joy and hospitality. 2 And lo! the Albatross proveth a bird of good omen, and followeth the ship as it returned northward through fog and floating ice. The ancient Mariner inhospitably killeth the pious bird of good omen. 1 And I had done an hellish thing, And it would work 'em woe: For all averred, I had killed the bird, Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay, 2 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. 3 The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow followed free; We were the first that ever burst 4 Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, "Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; 5 Water, water, everywhere, The very deep did rot: O Christ! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs About, about, in reel and rout His shipmates 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. 1 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 2 Ah! well a-day! what evil looks PART III "There passed a weary time. Each throat Was parched, and glazed each eye. A weary time! a weary time! 3 When looking westward, I beheld At first it seemed a little speck, It moved and moved, and took at last A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! 4 With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, We could nor laugh nor wail; I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, Agape they heard me call: A Spirit had followed them; one of the in visible inhabitants of this planet, neither de parted souls nor angels; concerning whom the learned Jew, Josephus, and the Platonic Con. stantinopolitan, Michael Psellus, may be con sulted. They are very numerous, and there is no climate or element without one or more. 2 The shipmates, in their sore distress, would fain throw the whole guilt on the ancient Mariner; in sign whereof they hang the dead sea. bird round his neck. 3 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 freeth his speech from the bonds of thirst. The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out. At one stride comes the dark ; With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea, Off shot the spectre-bark. 2 We listened and looked sideways up! 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- One after one, by the star-dogged Moon, And cursed me with his eye. 4 Four times fifty living men, 5 The souls did from their bodies fly,They fled to bliss or woe! And every soul, it passed me by, 3 One after another His shipmates drop down dead. But Life-in-Death begins her work on the ancient Mariner. The Wedding-Guest feareth that a Spirit is talking to him. [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. (Note of Coleridge, first printed in Sibylline Leaves, 1817) ] 8 But the ancient Mariner assureth him of his bodily life, and proceedeth to relate his horrible penance. 'He despiseth the creatures of the calma. And envieth that they should live, and so may lie dead. But the curse liveth for him in the eye of the dead men. In his loneliness and fixedness he yearneth towards the journeying Moon, and the stars that still sojourn, yet still move onward; and every where the blue sky belongs to them, and is their appointed rest, and their native country and their own natural homes, which they enter unannounced, as lords that are certainly expected, and yet there is a silent joy at their arrival, Her beams bemocked the sultry main, But where the ship's huge shadow lay, 1 Beyond the shadow of the ship, I watched the water-snakes: They moved in tracks of shining white, And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every trac Was a flash of golden fire. 2 O happy livings things! no tongue A spring of love gushed from my heart 4 The selfsame moment I could pray; PART V "Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole! To Mary Queen the praise be given! She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, That slid into my soul. 5 The silly buckets on the deck, That had so long remained. I dreamt that they were filled with dew; And when I awoke, it rained. My lips were wet, my throat was cold, Sure I had drunken in my dreams, I moved, and could not feel my limbs: I thought that I had died in sleep, 1 By the light of the Moon he beholdeth God's creatures of the great calm. Their beauty and their happiness. 3 He blesseth them in his heart. The spell begins to break. By grace of the holy Mother, the ancient Mariner is refreshed with rain. |