Lyrical Ballads, With a Few Other Poems | Page 2

with a friend who was somewhat unreasonably attached to modern books of moral philosophy.
CONTENTS.
The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere
The Foster-Mother's Tale
Lines left upon a Seat in a Yew-tree which stands near the Lake
of Esthwaite
The Nightingale, a Conversational Poem
The Female Vagrant
Goody Blake and Harry Gill
Lines written at a small distance from my House, and sent
by my little Boy to the Person to whom they are addressed
Simon Lee, the old Huntsman
Anecdote for Fathers
We are seven
Lines written in early spring
The Thorn
The last of the Flock
The Dungeon
The Mad Mother
The Idiot Boy
Lines written near Richmond, upon the Thames, at Evening
Expostulation and Reply
The Tables turned; an Evening Scene, on the same subject
Old Man travelling
The Complaint of a forsaken Indian Woman
The Convict
Lines written a few miles above Tintern Abbey
THE RIME OF THE ANCYENT MARINERE,?IN SEVEN PARTS.
ARGUMENT.
How a Ship having passed the Line was driven by Storms to the cold Country towards the South Pole; and how from thence she made her course to the tropical Latitude of the Great Pacific Ocean; and of the strange things that befell; and in what manner the Ancyent Marinere came back to his own Country.
I.
It is an ancyent Marinere,?And he stoppeth one of three:?"By thy long grey beard and thy glittering eye?"Now wherefore stoppest me?
"The Bridegroom's doors are open'd wide?"And I am next of kin;?"The Guests are met, the Feast is set,--?"May'st hear the merry din.--
But still he holds the wedding-guest--?There was a Ship, quoth he--?"Nay, if thou'st got a laughsome tale,?"Marinere! come with me."
He holds him with his skinny hand,?Quoth he, there was a Ship--?"Now get thee hence, thou grey-beard Loon!?"Or my Staff shall make thee skip."
He holds him with his glittering eye--?The wedding guest stood still?And listens like a three year's child;?The Marinere hath his will.
The wedding-guest sate on a stone,?He cannot chuse but hear:?And thus spake on that ancyent man,?The bright-eyed Marinere.
The Ship was cheer'd, the Harbour clear'd--?Merrily did we drop?Below the Kirk, below the Hill,?Below the Light-house top.
The Sun came up upon the left,?Out of the Sea came he:?And he shone bright, and on the right?Went down into the Sea.
Higher and higher every day,?Till over the mast at noon--?The wedding-guest here beat his breast,?For he heard the loud bassoon.
The Bride hath pac'd into the Hall,?Red as a rose is she;?Nodding their heads before her goes?The merry Minstralsy.
The wedding-guest he beat his breast,?Yet he cannot chuse but hear:?And thus spake on that ancyent Man,?The bright-eyed Marinere.
Listen, Stranger! Storm and Wind,?A Wind and Tempest strong!?For days and weeks it play'd us freaks--?Like Chaff we drove along.
Listen, Stranger! Mist and Snow,?And it grew wond'rous cauld:?And Ice mast-high came floating by?As green as Emerauld.
And thro' the drifts the snowy clifts?Did send a dismal sheen;?Ne shapes of men ne beasts we ken--?The Ice was all between.
The Ice was here, the Ice was there,?The Ice was all around:?It crack'd and growl'd, and roar'd and howl'd--?Like noises of a swound.
At length did cross an Albatross,?Thorough the Fog it came;?And an it were a Christian Soul,?We hail'd it in God's name.
The Marineres gave it biscuit-worms,?And round and round it flew:?The Ice did split with a Thunder-fit;?The Helmsman steer'd us thro'.
And a good south wind sprung up behind,?The Albatross did follow;?And every day for food or play?Came to the Marinere's hollo!
In mist or cloud on mast or shroud?It perch'd for vespers nine,?Whiles all the night thro' fog-smoke white?Glimmer'd the white moon-shine.
"God save thee, ancyent Marinere!?"From the fiends that plague thee thus--?"Why look'st thou so?"--with my cross bow?I shot the Albatross.
II.
The Sun came up upon the right,?Out of the Sea came he;?And broad as a weft upon the left?Went down into the Sea.
And the good south wind still blew behind,?But no sweet Bird did follow?Ne any day for food or play?Came to the Marinere's hollo!
And I had done an hellish thing?And it would work 'em woe:?For all averr'd, I had kill'd the Bird?That made the Breeze to blow.
Ne dim ne red, like God's own head,?The glorious Sun uprist:?Then all averr'd, I had kill'd the Bird?That brought the fog and mist.?'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay?That bring the fog and mist.
The breezes blew, the white foam flew,?The furrow follow'd 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, 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