"The 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!" PART IV. "I FEAR thee, ancient mariner! 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 a wide, wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony. "The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I. "I look'd upon the rotting sea, I look'd upon the rotting deck, "I look'd to heaven, and tried to pray; But or ever a prayer had gusht, A wicked whisper came, and made "I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; [sky For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the "The cold sweat melted from their limbs, The look with which they look'd on me "An orphan's curse would drag to hell But oh! more horrible than that Is the curse in a dead man's eye! "The moving moon went up the sky, And a star or two beside "Her beams bemock'd the sultry main, I watch'd the water snakes: "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, "The self-same moment I could pray; And from my neck so free The Albatross fell off, and sank PART V. "O SLEEP! it is a gentle thing, To Mary Queen the praise be given! "The silly buckets on the deck, That had so long remain'd, I dreamt that they were fill'd with dews; "My lips were wet, my throat was cold, "I moved, and could not feel my limbs : I thought that I had died in sleep, "And soon I heard a roaring wind: It did not come anear; But with its sound it shook the sails, "The upper air burst into life! And a hundred fire-flags sheen, To and fro they were hurried about; And to and fro, and in and out, The wan stars danced between. "And the coming wind did roar more loud, "The thick black cloud was cleft, and still The moon was at its side; Like waters shot from some high crag, "The loud wind never reach'd the ship "They groan'd, they stirr'd, they all uprose, Nor spake, nor moved their eyes; It had been strange, even in a dream, To have seen those dead men rise. "The helmsman steer'd, the ship moved on: They raised their limbs like lifeless tools- "The body of my brother's son Stood by me, knee to knee: "I fear thee, ancient mariner!" "Be calm thou, wedding-guest! 'Twas not those souls that fled in pain, Which to their corses came again, But a troop of spirits blest: "For when it dawn'd-they dropp'd their arms, And cluster'd round the mast; Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths, "Around, around, flew each sweet sound, "Sometimes a-dropping from the sky "And now 'twas like all instruments, That makes the heavens be mute. "It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, "Till noon we quietly sail'd on, Yet never a breeze did breathe: That made the ship to go. And the ship stood still also. With a short uneasy motion- And look'd far forth, yet little saw Of what had else been seen "Like one, that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turn'd round, walks on, Doth close behind him tread. "But soon there breathed a wind on me, "It raised my hair, it fann'd my cheek, "The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, That stands above the rock: The moonlight steep'd in silentness "And the bay was white with silent light, Till, rising from the same, Full many shapes, that shadows were, "A little distance from the prow "Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, "This seraph-band, each waved his hand : "This seraph-band, each waved his hand, No voice did they impart No voice; but oh! the silence sank "THIS hermit good lives in that wood That come from a far countree. "He kneels at morn, and noon, and eveHe hath a cushion plump: It is the moss that wholly hides "The skiff-boat near'd: I heard them talk, Why this is strange, I trow! Where are those lights so many and fair, That signal made but now?' "Strange, by my faith!' the hermit said And they answer'd not our cheer! The planks look warp'd! and see those sails, I never saw ought like to them, "The skeletons of leaves that lag My forest brook along: When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, "Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look'- I am afeared'-Push on, push on!' "The boat came closer to the ship, "Under the water it rumbled on, "Stunn'd by that loud and dreadful sound, Which sky and ocean smote, Like one that hath been seven days drown'd, My body lay afloat; But swift as dreams, myself I found Within the pilot's boat. Upon the whirl, where sank the ship, The boat spun round and round; And all was still, save that the hill Was telling of the sound. “I moved my lips—the pilot shriek’d "I took the oars: the pilot's boy, Who now doth crazy go, Laugh'd loud and long, and all the while Ha! ha!' quoth he, full plain I see, "And now, all in my own countree, I stood on the firm land! O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!' "Forthwith this frame of mine was wrench'd With a woeful agony, Which forced me to begin my tale; And then it left me free. "Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns; And till my ghastly tale is told, "I pass, like night, from land to land; "What loud uproar bursts from that door! The wedding-guests are there; But in the garden bower the bride And bridemaids singing are; And hark the little vesper bell, Which biddeth me to prayer! "O wedding-guest! this soul hath been "O sweeter than the marriage feast, To walk together to the kirk To walk together to the kirk, While each to his great Father bends, And youths and maidens gay! "He prayeth best, who loveth best The mariner, whose eye is bright, He went like one that hath been stunn'd, A sadder and a wiser man, LOVE. ALL thoughts, all passions, all delights, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, She leant against the armed man, The statue of the armed knight; She stood and listen'd to my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own The songs that make her grieve. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace, For well she knew, I could not choose But gaze upon her face. I told her of the knight that wore I told her how he pined; and ah! Interpreted my own. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace; And she forgave me, that I gazed Too fondly on her face! But when I told the cruel scorn That crazed that bold and lovely knight, And that he cross'd the mountain woods, Nor rested day nor night; That sometimes from the savage den, And sometimes from the darksome shade, And sometimes starting up at once In green and sunny glade, There came and look'd him in the face And that, unknowing what he did, He leap'd amid a murderous band, And saved from outrage worse than death The lady of the land! And how she wept, and clasp'd his knees; And how she tended him in vain And ever strove to expiate The scorn that crazed his brain; And that she nursed him in a cave; And how his madness went away, When on the yellow forest leaves A dying man he lay; His dying words-but when I reach'd Disturb'd her soul with pity! All impulses of soul and sense Had thrill'd my guileless Genevieve; The music, and the doleful tale, The rich and balmy eve; And hopes, and fears that kindle hope, She wept with pity and delight, She blush'd with love, and virgin shame; And, like the murmur of a dream, I heard her breathe my name. Her bosom heaved-she stept aside, She fled to me and wept. She half-enclosed me with her arms, 'Twas partly love, and partly fear, I calm'd her fears, and she was calm, And so I won my Genevieve, My bright and beauteous bride. THE PAINS OF SLEEP. ERE on my bed my limbs I lay, In humble trust mine eyelids close, No wish conceived, no thought express'd, A sense o'er all my soul impress'd Of shapes and thoughts that tortured me · And whom I scorn'd, those only strong! For all seem'd guilt, remorse, or wo, The third night, when my own loud scream And having thus by tears subdued To natures deepliest stain'd with sin,— For aye entempesting anew The unfathomable hell within, And whom I love, I love indeed. CONCEALMENT. TIME, as he courses onward, still unrolls Of the dim past collect and shape themselves, |