Lyrical Ballads, With a Few Other Poems | Page 3

bloody sun at noon,
Right up above
the mast did stand,
No bigger than the moon.

Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, ne breath ne motion,
As idle
as a painted Ship
Upon a painted Ocean.
Water, water, every where
And all the boards did shrink;
Water,
water, every where,
Ne any drop to drink.
The very deeps 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 danc'd 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 follow'd us
From the Land of Mist and
Snow.
And every tongue thro' utter drouth
Was wither'd at the root;
We
could not speak no more than if
We had been choked with soot.
Ah wel-a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young;
Instead
of the Cross the Albatross
About my neck was hung.
III.
I saw a something in the Sky
No bigger than my fist;
At first it
seem'd a little speck
And then it seem'd a mist:
It mov'd and mov'd,
and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.
A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
And still it ner'd and ner'd;
And, an
it dodg'd a water-sprite,
It plung'd and tack'd and veer'd.
With throat unslack'd, with black lips bak'd
Ne could we laugh, ne
wail:
Then while thro' drouth all dumb they stood
I bit my arm and
suck'd the blood
And cry'd, A sail! a sail!
With throat unslack'd, with black lips bak'd
Agape they hear'd me call:


Gramercy! they for joy did grin
And all at once their breath drew
in
As they were drinking all.
She doth not tack from side to side--
Hither to work us weal

Withouten wind, withouten tide
She steddies with upright keel.
The western wave was all a flame,
The day was well nigh done!

Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright Sun;
When
that strange shape drove suddenly
Betwixt us and the Sun.
And strait the Sun was fleck'd with bars
(Heaven's mother send us
grace)
As if thro' a dungeon grate he peer'd
With broad and burning
face.
Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
How fast she neres and
neres!
Are those her Sails that glance in the Sun
Like restless
gossameres?
Are these her naked ribs, which fleck'd
The sun that did behind them
peer?
And are these two all, all the crew,
That woman and her
fleshless Pheere?
His bones were black with many a crack,
All black and bare, I ween;

Jet-black and bare, save where with rust
Of mouldy damps and
charnel crust
They're patch'd with purple and green.
Her_ lips are red, _her looks are free,
Her locks are yellow as gold:

Her skin is as white as leprosy,
And she is far liker Death than he;

Her flesh makes the still air cold.
The naked Hulk alongside came
And the Twain were playing dice;

"The Game is done! I've won, I've won!"
Quoth she, and whistled
thrice.
A gust of wind sterte up behind
And whistled thro' his bones;
Thro'

the holes of his eyes and the hole of his mouth
Half-whistles and
half-groans.
With never a whisper in the Sea
Off darts the Spectre-ship;
While
clombe above the Eastern bar
The horned Moon, with one bright Star

Almost atween the tips.
One after one by the horned Moon
(Listen, O Stranger! to me)
Each
turn'd his face with a ghastly pang
And curs'd me with his ee.
Four times fifty living men,
With never a sigh or groan,
With heavy
thump, a lifeless lump
They dropp'd down one by one.
Their souls did from their bodies fly,--
They fled to bliss or woe;

And every soul it pass'd me by,
Like the whiz of my Cross-bow.
IV.
"I fear thee, ancyent Marinere!
"I fear thy skinny hand;
"And thou
art long and lank and brown
"As is the ribb'd Sea-sand.
"I fear thee and thy glittering eye
"And thy skinny hand so brown"--

Fear not, fear not, thou wedding guest!
This body dropt not down.
Alone, alone, all all alone
Alone on the wide wide Sea;
And Christ
would take no pity on
My soul in agony.
The many men so beautiful,
And they all dead did lie!
And a
million million slimy things
Liv'd on--and so did I.
I look'd upon the rotting Sea,
And drew my eyes away;
I look'd
upon the eldritch deck,
And there the dead men lay.
I look'd to Heaven, and try'd to pray;
But or ever a prayer had gusht,

A wicked whisper came and made
My heart as dry as dust.

I clos'd my lids and kept them close,
Till the balls like pulses beat;

For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky
Lay like a load on my
weary eye,
And the dead were at my feet.
The cold sweat melted from their limbs,
Ne rot, ne reek did they;

The look with which they look'd on me,
Had never pass'd away.
An orphan's curse would drag to Hell
A spirit from on high:
But O!
more horrible than that
Is the curse in a dead man's eye!
Seven days,
seven nights I saw that curse
And yet I could not die.