With throats unslaked, with black lips | One after one, by the star-dogged Moon, One after an-
baked,
Too quick for groan or sigh

other,
Agape they heard me call;

Each turn'd his face with a ghastly pang,
A Aasb of joy.
Gramercy! they for joy did grin, And cursed me with his

eye.
And all at once their breath drew in,
As they were drinking all.
Four times fifty living men

His shipmales
(And I heard nor sigh nor groan),

drop dowu dead; And horror fol- See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more! With heavy thump, a lifeless lump, lows: for can it be Hither to work us weal;

They dropp'd down one by one. a ship, that comes onward without Without a breeze, without a tide, wind or tide ? She steadies with upright keel! The souls did from their bodies fly,- But LIFE-11They tled to bliss or woe!

Det begins her

work on the w11-
The western wave was all a flame,
And every soul, it pass'd me by,

cient Mariner.
The day was well nigh done,

Like the whizz of my Cross-Bow !
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright Sun;

PART IV.
When that strange shape drove suddenly
Betwixt us and the Sun.
* I Fear thee, ancient Mariner !

The wedding

ques: feareth that I fear thy skinny hand !

a spirit is talking It seemeth him And straight the Sun was fleck'd with And thou art long, and lank, and brown, to him; bars,

As is the ribb'd sea-sand." of a ship

(Heaven's Mother send us grace!)
As if through a dungeon-grate he peer'd I fear thee and thy glittering eye,
With broad and burning face.

And thy skinny hand, so brown.»-
Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-guest! But the aneicut

Mariner assurer
Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat This body dropt not down.

hivn of his bodily
loud)

life, and procee!

eth to relate his
How fast she nears and nears!
Alone, alone, all, all alone,

horrible penance.
Are those her sails that glance in the Alone on a wide wide sea!
Sun,

And never a saint took pity on
Like restless gossameres?

My soul in agony.

but the skeleton

And its ribs are
Are those her ribs through which the The many men, so beautiful!

He despiseth the

creatures of the seen as bars on Sun And they all dead did lie :

calin. the face of the

Did
peer, as through a grate;

And a thousand thousand slimy ibings setting Sun.

And is that Woman all her crow? Lived on ; and so did I.
The spectre-wo- Is that a Death, and are there two?
man and her
Is Dearn that woman's mate?
I look'd upon the rotting sea,

And envieth that
death-nate, an!
no other on board

And drew my eyes away;

they should live,

and so many lie theskoleton-ship

I look'd upon the rotting deck,

dead. Like vessel, like Her lips were red, her looks were free,

And there the dead men lay. crew!

Her locks were yellow as gold:
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Night-Mare Life-IN-DEATA was she, I look'd to fleaven, and tried to pray;
Who thicks man's blood with cold. But or ever a prayer had gush'd,

A wicked whisper came, and made
Deatn, and Lire The naked hulk alongside came, My heart as dry as dust.
IN-DETI have

And the twain were casting dice;
dices for the
ship's crew, and The game is done! I 've won, I've I closed my lids, and kept them close,
she (the latter)

And the balls like pulses beat; winneth the aucient Mariner. Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

For the sky and the sea, and the sea and

the sky,
No twilight with- The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: Lay like a load on my weary eye,
in the courts of
At one stride comes the Dark;

And the dead were al my feet.
With far-heard whisper, o'er the sca
Off shot the spectre-bark.
The cold sweat melted from their limbs, But the curse liv-

ett for bim in the
Nor rot nor reek did they;

cye of the dead
At the rising of We listen'd and look'd sideways up! The look with which they look'd on me
the inoon, Fear at my heart, as at a cup,

Had never pass'd away.
My life-blood seemd to sip!
The stars were dim, and thick the night, An orphan's curse would drag to Hell
The steersman's face by his lamp gleam'd A spirit from ou high ;

white;
From the sails the dew did drip-

1 For the two last lines of this stanza, I am indebted to Me
Till clomb above the eastern bar

Wordsworth. It was on a delightful walk from Nether Stowey 10
The horned Moon, with one bright star Dulvertou, with lim and his sister, in the Autumn of 1797, ibai
Within the nether tip.

this l'oem was planned, and in part composed.

won !

the sun

meu.

He heareth
sounds and seeth
strange nichts and
eomninotions in
the sky and the
elemeut.

The bodies of the strip's crew are inspired, and the ship mores on;

1

But oh ! more horrible than that

And soon I heard a roaring wind :
Is a curse in a dead man's eye!

It did not come anear;
Seven days, seven nights, I saw that But with ils sound it shook the sails,
curse,

That were so thin and sere.
And
yet
I could not die.

The upper air burst into life!
In his loneliness The moving Moon went up the sky,

And a hundred fire-flags sheen,
and lixedness be
And no where did abide :

To and fro they were hurried about !
yearneth towards
the journeying Softly she was going up,

And to and fro, and in and oul,
Moon, and the
And a star or two beside-

The wan stars danced between.
stars that still so-
journ, yet still
more ouward; and every where the blue sky belongs to them, and is And the coming wind did roar more
their appointed rest, and their native country and their own natural loud,
homes, which they enter vonnounced, as lords that are certainly ex-
pected, and yet there is a silent joy at their arrival.

And the sails did sich like sedge;

Aud the rain pour'd down from one
Her beams bemock'd the sultry main,

black cloud;
Like April hoar-frost spread ;

The Moon was at its edge.
But where the ship's huge shadow lay,
The charmed water burut alway

The thick black cloud was cleft, and
A still and awful red.

still

The Moon was at its side:
By the light of Beyond the shadow of the ship

Like waters shot from some high crag,
the Moon lio be-
I watch'd the water-spakes :

The lightning fell with never a jag,
holdeth God's
creatures of the They moved in tracks of shining white, A river steep and wide.
great cala.

And when they rear'd, the elfislı liglit
Fell off in hoary flakes.

The loud wind never reach'd the ship,

Yet now the ship moved on!
Within the shadow of the ship

Beneath the lightning and the moon
I watch'd their rich attire:

The dead men gave a groan.
Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,
They coild and swam; and ev'ry track

They groan'd, they stirr'd, they all up-
Was a flash of golden fire.

rose,

Nor spake, nor moved their eyes;
Their beauty and O happy living things! no tongue

It had been strange, even in a dream,
their happiness.

To have seen those dead men rise.
Their beauty might declare:

A spring of love gusli'd from
lle blesseth them And I bless'd them unaware:

The helmsman steer'd, the ship moved in his heart.

on;
Sure my kind saint took pily on me,

Yel pever a breeze
And I bless'd them unaware.

up

The mariners all 'gan work the ropes,
The spell becios The self-same moment I could

Where they were wont to do;

pray;
to break.
And from my neck so free

| They raised their limbs like lifeless tools

-We were a ghastly crew.
The Albatross fell off, and sank
Like lead into the sea.

The body of my brother's son

Stood by mne, knee to knee :
PART V.

The body and I pull'd at one rope,
Ou Sleep! it is a gentle thing,

But he said nought to me.
Beloved from pole to pole!
To Mary Queen the praise be given !

« I fear thee, ancient Mariner!,
Sbe sent the gentle sleep from Heaven,

Be calm, thou Wedding-guest!
That slid into my soul.

'T was not those souls that fled in pain,

Which to their corses came again,
By grace of the The silly buckets on the deck,

But a troop of spirits blest :
holy Mother, the That had so long remain'd,

Mariner
is refreshed with

I dreamt that they were fill'd with dew;
And when I awoke, it rain'd.

For when it dawn'd-they dropp'd their

arms,
My lips were wet, my throat was cold, And cluster'd round the mast;
My garments all were dank;

Sweet sounds rose slowly through their
Sure I had drunken in my dreams,

mouths,
And still my body drank.

And from their bodies pass'd.
I moved, and could not feel

my
limbs :

Around, around, flew each sweet sound,
I was so light-almost

Then darted to the Sun;
I thought that I had died in sleep, Slowly the sounds came back again,
And was a blessed chost.

Now inix'd, now one by one.

my heart,

blew;

ancient

rain.

Sometimes, a-dropping from the sky,

PART VI.
I heard the sky-lark sing ;
Sometimes all little birds that are,

FIRST VOICE.
How they seem'd to fill the sea and air, But tell me, tell me!'speak again,
With their sweet jargoning!

Thy soft response renewing

What makes that ship drive on so fast?
And now 't was like all instruments, What is the OCEAN doing?
Now like a lonely (lute;
And now it is an angel's song,

SECOND VOICE.
That makes the Heavens be mute. Still as a slave before his lord,

The OCEAN hath no blast;
It ceased; yet still the sails made on His great bright eye most silently
A pleasant noise till noon,

Up to the Moon is cast-
A noise like of a hidden brook
In the leafy month of June,

If he may know which way to go;
That to the sleeping woods all night For she quides him smooth or grim.
Singeth a quiet tune.

See, brother, sce! how graciously

She looketh down on him.
Till noon we quietly sailed on,
Yet never a breeze did breathe :

FIRST VOICE.
Slowly and smoothly went the ship, But why drives on that ship so fast, The Mariner hath

been cast into a
Moved onward from beneath.
Without or wave or wind ?

traure; for the angelic power

causoth the ves The lonesome Under the keel nine fathom deep,

SECOND VOICE.

sel to drive northspirit from the From the land of mist and snow, The air is cut away before,

ward faster than south-polecarries on the ship as far The spirit slid: and it was he

And closes from behind.

human lifo could

endure. as the line, in

That made the ship to go. obedience to the angelic troop, but The sails at noon left off their tune, Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high! still requireth And the ship stood still also.

Or we shall be belated : vengeance.

For slow and slow that ship will go,
The Sun, right up above the mast, When the Mariner's trance is abated.
Had fix'd her to the ocean :
But in a minute she 'gan stir,
I woke, and we were sailing on

The supernatural
With a short uneasy motion --
As in a gentle weather:

ed; the Mariner Backwards and forwards half her length 'T was night, calm night, the Moon was awakes, and his With a short uneasy motion.

high;

penance begins
The dead men stood together.
Then like a pawing horse let go,
She made a sudden bound:

All stood together on the deck,
It flung the blood into my head, For a charnel-dungeon fitter :
And I fell down in a swound,

All fix'd on me their story eyes,

That in the Moon did glitter.
The Polar Spi- How long in that same fit I lay,
rit's fellow dar-
I have not to declare;

The
pang,

the
curse,

with which they
inous, the insi-
siblo inhabitants But ere my living life return'd,

died, of the element, I heard and in my soul discern'd

Had never pass'd away: take part in his wrong; and to Two yoices in the air.

I could not draw my eyes from theirs, of the relate,

Nor turn them up to pray. one to the other, that penance long and heavy for the

. Is it he ?» quoth one, « Is this the | And now this spell was snapt: once The curse is 6 man ?

nally espiated. bath been accord, od to the Polar By him who died on cross,

I view'd the ocean green,
Spirit, who re-
With his cruel bow he laid full low

And look'd far forth, yet little saw
turneth south-
ward,
The barmless Albatross.

Of what bad else been seen

motion is retard

ancient Mariner

more

. The spirit who bideth by himself Like one, that on a lonesome road
In the land of mist and snow,

Doth walk in fear and dread,
He loved the bird that loved the man And having once turn d round walks on,
Who shot him with his bow.”

And turns no more his head ;

Because he knows, a frigbiful fiend
The other was a softer voice,

Doth close behind him tread.
As soft as honey-dew:
Quoth he, The man hath penance But soon there breathed a wind on me,
done,

Nor sound nor motion made:
And penance more will do..

Jis path was not upon the sea,
In ripple or in shade,

It raised my hair, it fann'd my clicek
Like a meadow-gale of spring-
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming.

He singeth loud his godly hymns
That he makes in the wood.
He 'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away
The Albatross's blood.

The Hormitor ibe Wood,

rits leave the

And

in

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,

PART VII.
Yet she sail'd softly too:
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze-

Tops Hermit good lives in that wood

Which slopes down to the sea.
On me alone it blew.

How loudly his sweet voice he rears !
And tho ancient Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed

He loves to talk with marineres Mariner behold

That come from a far countree. eth his nativo

The light-house top I see !
country.
Is this the hill? is this the kirk?

He kneels at morn, and noon and eve-
Is this mine own countrce?

He hath a cushion plump:
We drifted o'er the harbour bar,

It is the moss that wholly hides
And I with sobs did pray-

| The rotted old oak-stump.
O let me be awake, my God!
Or let me sleep alway.

The skiff-boat neard : I heard them

talk, The harbour-bay was clear as glass,

- Why this is strange, I trow !
So smoothly it was strewn !

Where are those lights so many and fair,
And on the bay the moonlight lay,

That signal made but now ?»
And the shadow of the moon.

« Strange, by my faith!, the Hermit Approached the
said

ship with The rock shone bright, the kirk no less

wonder. That stands above the rock:

• And they answer'd not our cheer! The moonlight steep'd in silentness

The planks look'd warp'd! and see those

sails,
The steady weathercock.

How thin they are and sere!
And the bay was white with silent light, I never saw aught like to them,
Till rising from the same,

Unless perchance it were
The angelic spi- Full many shapes, that shadows were,
In crimson colours came.

* Brown skeletons of leaves that lag dead bodies,

My forest-brook along;
A little distance from the prow

When the ivy-lod is heavy with snow,
appear
their own forms Those crimson shadows were :

And the owlet whoops to the wolf below,
of light.
I turn'd my eyes upon the deck-

That eats the she-wolfs young.»
Oh, Christ! what saw I there!

« Dear Lord ! it hath a fiendish look-
Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat; (The Pilot made reply,)
And, by the holy rood !

I am a-fear'dı- Push on, push on!»
A man all light, a seraph-man, Said the Hermit cheerily.
On every corse there stood.

The boat came closer to the ship,
This seraph band, each waved his hand : But I nor spake nor stirrd ;
It was a heavenly sight!

The boat came close bencath the ship,
They stood as signals to the land,

And straight a sound was heard.
Each one a lovely light;
Under the water it rumbled on,

The ship rulden
This seraph band, each waved his hand, Sull louder and more dread :

Is sinkeib,
No voice did they impart-

It reach'd the ship, it split the bay;
No voice; but oh! the silence sank

The ship went down like lead.
Like music on my heart.

Stupn'd by that loud and dreadful sound, The ancient Ma
But soon I heard the dash of oars,

Which sky and ocean smote,
I heard the Pilot's cheer;

The Pilot's boat.
Like one that bath been seven days
My head was turn'd perforee away,

drown'd
And I saw a boat appear.

My body lay afloat;
The Pilot and the Pilot's boy,

Dut swift as dreams, myself I found
I heard them coming fast:

Within the Pilot's boat.
Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy
The dead men could not blast.

Upon the wbirl, where sank the ship,

The boat spun round and round;
I saw a third--I heard his voice : And all was still, save that the hill
It is the Hermit good!

Was telling of the sound.

riner is saved in

I moved my lips--the Pilot shriek'd,
And fell down in a fit;
The holy Hermit raised his eyes,
And pray'd where he did sit.

But in the garden-bower the bride
And bride-maids singing are:
And hark! the little vesper bell,
Which biddeth me to prayer.

I took the oars : the Pilot's boy,
Who now doth crazy go,

O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been

Alone on a wide wide sea :
Laugh'd loud and long, and all the while

So lonely 't was, that God himself
His
eyes went to and fro.

Scarce seemed there to be.
• Ha! ha!. quoth he, • full plain I see,
The Devil knows how to row..

O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
And now, all in my own countrec,

'T is sweeter far to me,
I stood on the firm land !

To walk together to the kirk
The Hermit stepp'd forth from the boat, with a goodly company -
And scarcely he could sland.

To walk together to the kirk,
The ancient Ma- «() shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!.

And all together pray, riger earnestly

The Hermit cross'd his brow. entreateth the

While each to his great Father bends, Herinit to shrieve Say quick," quoth he, «I bid thee say old men, and babes, and loving friends, him; and the pe- What inanner of man art thou ?, nance of life falls

And youths and maidens gay! on him. Forthwith this frame of mine was

Farewell, farewell ! but this I tell
wrench'd

To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!
With a woeful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;

He prayeth well, who loveth well

Both man and bird and beast.
And then it left me frec.
And ever and
Since then, at an uncertain hour,

He prayeth best, who loveth best anon throughout That agony returns :

All things both great and small; bis future life au

For the dear God wlio loveth ils, And till my ghastly tale is told, a pony constraineth him to travel This heart within me burns.

He made and loveth all.
froin laad to
land,
I pass, like night, from land to land ;

The Mariner, whose eye is bright,
I have strange power of speech ;

Whose beard with age is hoar,
That moment that his face I see,

Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest
I know the man that must hear me:

Turn'd from the bridegroom's door.
To him my tale I icach.

He went like one that liath been stunn’d,
What loud uproar bursts from that And is of sense forlorn":
door!

A sadder and a wiser man
The wedding-guests are there :

He rose the morrow morn.

And to tearh. by
bis own example,
love and resc-
rence to all
things that God
made and loveth.

Christabel.

PREFACE.'

second part had been published in the year 1800, the
impression of its originality would have been much

greater than I dare at present expect. But for this, I The first part of the following poem was written in the have only my own indolence to blame. The dates year one thousand seven hundred and ninety seven, at are mentioned for the exclusive purpose of precluding Stowey in the county of Somerset. The second part, charges of plagiarism or servile imitation from myself. after my return from Germany, in the year one thou- For there is amongst us a set of critics, who seem to sand eight hundred, at Keswick, Cumberland. Since hold, that every possible thought and image is tradithe latter date, my poetic powers have been, till very tional; who have no rotion that there are such things lately, in a state of suspended animation. But as, in as fountains in the world, small as well as great; aud my very first conception of the tale, I had the whole who would therefore charitably derive every rill they present to my mind, with the wholeness, no less than behold flowing, from a perforation made in some other with the loveliness of a vision, I trust that I shall yet be man's tank. I am confident, however, that as far as the able to embody in verse the three parts yet to come. present poem is concerned, the celebrated poets whose

It is probable, that if the poem had been finished at writings I might be suspected of having imitated, either either of the former periods, or if even the first and in particular passages, or in the tone and the spirit of

the whole, would be among the first to vindicate me