The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Volume II Part 197

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III.

I saw a something in the Sky No bigger than my fist; 140 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! 145 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: 150 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: 155 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 160 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 165 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) 170 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 175 Like restless gossameres?

Are those _her_ naked ribs, which fleck'd The sun that did behind them peer?

And are those two all, all the crew, That woman and her fleshless Pheere? 180

_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. 185

_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. 190

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 195 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-s.h.i.+p; 200 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) 205 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 210 They dropp'd down one by one.

Their souls did from their bodies fly,-- They fled to bliss or woe; And every soul it pa.s.s'd me by, Like the whiz of my Cross-bow. 215

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 220 "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; 225 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 230 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. 235

I look'd to Heav'n, 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, 240 Till the b.a.l.l.s 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, 245 Ne rot, ne reek did they; The look with which they look'd on me, Had never pa.s.s'd away.

An orphan's curse would drag to h.e.l.l A spirit from on high: 250 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, 255 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; 260 But where the s.h.i.+p's huge shadow lay, The charmed water burnt alway A still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the s.h.i.+p I watch'd the water-snakes: 265 They mov'd in tracks of s.h.i.+ning white; And when they rear'd, the elfish light Fell off in h.o.a.ry flakes.

Within the shadow of the s.h.i.+p I watch'd their rich attire: 270 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: 275 A spring of love gusht from my heart, And I bless'd them unaware!

Sure my kind saint took pity on me, And I bless'd them unaware.

The self-same moment I could pray; 280 And from my neck so free The Albatross fell off, and sank Like lead into the sea.

V.

O sleep, it is a gentle thing, Belov'd from pole to pole! 285 To Mary-queen the praise be yeven She sent the gentle sleep from heaven That slid into my soul.

The silly buckets on the deck That had so long remain'd, 290 I dreamt that they were fill'd with dew And when I awoke it rain'd.

My lips were wet, my throat was cold, My garments all were dank; Sure I had drunken in my dreams 295 And still my body drank.

I mov'd and could not feel my limbs, I was so light, almost I thought that I had died in sleep, And was a blessed Ghost. 300

The roaring wind! it roar'd far off, It did not come anear; But with its sound it shook the sails That were so thin and sere.

The upper air bursts into life, 305 And a hundred fire-flags sheen To and fro they are hurried about; And to and fro, and in and out The stars dance on between.

The coming wind doth roar more loud; 310 The sails do sigh, like sedge: The rain pours down from one black cloud And the Moon is at its edge.

Hark! hark! the thick black cloud is cleft, And the Moon is at its side: 315 Like waters shot from some high crag, The lightning falls with never a jag A river steep and wide.

The strong wind reach'd the s.h.i.+p: it roar'd And dropp'd down, like a stone! 320 Beneath the lightning and the moon The dead men gave a groan.

The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Volume II Part 197

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