Lyrical Ballads, With a Few Other Poems | Page 3

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.
The moving Moon went up the sky?And no where did abide:?Softly she was going up?And a star or two beside--
Her beams bemock'd the sultry main?Like morning frosts yspread;?But where the ship's huge shadow lay,?The charmed water burnt alway?A still and awful red.
Beyond the shadow of the ship?I watch'd the water-snakes:?They mov'd in tracks of shining white;?And when they rear'd, the elfish light?Fell off in hoary flakes.
Within the shadow of the ship?I watch'd their rich attire:?Blue, glossy green, and velvet black?They coil'd and swam; and every track?Was a flash of golden fire.
O happy living things! no tongue?Their beauty might declare:?A spring of love gusht from my heart,?And I bless'd them unaware!?Sure my kind