Coleridge's Ancient Mariner and Select Poems Part 7

Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, And, by the holy rood!

A man all light, a seraph-man, 490 On every corse there stood.

This seraph-band, each waved his hand: It was a heavenly sight!

They stood as signals to the land, Each one a lovely light; 495

This seraph-band, each waved his hand, No voice did they impart-- No voice; but oh! the silence sank Like music on my heart.

But soon I heard the dash of oars, 500 I heard the Pilot's cheer; My head was turned perforce away, And I saw a boat appear.

The Pilot and the Pilot's boy, I heard them coming fast: 505 Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy The dead men could not blast.

I saw a third--I heard his voice: It is the Hermit good!

He singeth loud his G.o.dly hymns 510 That he makes in the wood.

He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away The Albatross's blood.

PART VII

[Sidenote: The Hermit of the Wood,]

This Hermit good lives in that wood Which slopes down to the sea. 515 How loudly his sweet voice he rears!

He loves to talk with marineres That come from a far countree.

He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve-- He hath a cushion plump: 520 It is the moss that wholly hides The rotted old oak-stump.

The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk, 'Why, this is strange, I trow!

Where are those lights, so many and fair, 525 That signal made but now?'

[Sidenote: Approacheth the ship with wonder.]

'Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit said-- 'And they answered not our cheer!

The planks looked warped! and see those sails, How thin they are and sere! 530 I never saw aught like to them, Unless perchance it were

Brown skeletons of leaves that lag My forest-brook along; When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, 535 And the owlet whoops to the wolf below, That eats the she-wolf's young.'

'Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look-- (The Pilot made reply) I am a-feared'--'Push on, push on!' 540 Said the Hermit cheerily.

The boat came closer to the ship, But I nor spake nor stirred; The boat came close beneath the ship, And straight a sound was heard. 545

[Sidenote: The ship suddenly sinketh.]

Under the water it rumbled on, Still louder and more dread: It reached the ship, it split the bay; The ship went down like lead.

[Sidenote: The ancient Mariner is saved in the Pilot's boat.]

Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound, 550 Which sky and ocean smote, Like one that hath been seven days drowned My body lay afloat; But swift as dreams, myself I found Within the Pilot's boat. 555

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 shrieked 560 And fell down in a fit; The holy Hermit raised his eyes, And prayed where he did sit.

I took the oars: the Pilot's boy, Who now doth crazy go, 565 Laughed loud and long, and all the while His eyes went to and fro.

'Ha! ha!' quoth he, 'full plain I see, The Devil knows how to row.'

And now, all in my own countree, 570 I stood on the firm land!

The Hermit stepped forth from the boat, And scarcely he could stand.

[Sidenote: The ancient Mariner earnestly entreateth the Hermit to shrieve him; and the penance of life falls on him.]

'O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!'

The Hermit crossed his brow. 575 'Say quick,' quoth he, 'I bid thee say-- What manner of man art thou?'

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched With a woful agony, Which forced me to begin my tale; 580 And then it left me free.

[Sidenote: And ever and anon throughout his future life an agony constraineth him to travel from land to land,]

Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns: And till my ghastly tale is told, This heart within me burns. 585

I pa.s.s, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me: To him my tale I teach. 590

What loud uproar bursts from that door!

The wedding-guests are there: But in the garden-bower the bride And bride-maids singing are: And hark the little vesper bell, 595 Which biddeth me to prayer!

O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been Alone on a wide, wide sea: So lonely 't was, that G.o.d himself Scarce seemed there to be. 600

O sweeter than the marriage-feast, 'T is sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company!--

To walk together to the kirk, 605 And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends And youths and maidens gay!

[Sidenote: And to teach, by his own example, love and reverence to all things that G.o.d made and loveth.]

Farewell, farewell! but this I tell 610 To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!

He prayeth well, who loveth well Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best, who loveth best All things both great and small; 615 For the dear G.o.d who loveth us, He made and loveth all."

The Mariner, whose eye is bright, Whose beard with age is h.o.a.r, Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest 620 Turned from the bridegroom's door.

He went like one that hath been stunned, And is of sense forlorn: A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn. 625

CHRISTABEL

PART THE FIRST