And its ribs are seen as bars on the face of the setting sun. The spectrewoman and her deathmate, and no other on board the skeleton ship.

Like vessel, like crew!

Death, and

have diced for

Are those her ribs through which the sun
Did peer, as through a grate?

And is that Woman all her crew?

Is that a Death? and are there two?
Is Death that woman's mate?

Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold:
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The night-mare Life-in-Death was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold.

The naked hulk alongside came, Life-in-Death, And the twain were casting dice; 'The game is done! I've, I've won !' latter) winneth Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

the ship's crew,

and she (the

the ancient

Mariner.

No twilight within the

courts of the sun.

At the rising of the moon,

The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out:
At one stride comes the dark;

With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea,
Off shot the spectre-bark.

We listen'd and look'd sideways up!
Fear at my heart, as at a cup,

My life-blood seem'd to sip!

The stars were dim, and thick the night,
The steersman's face by his lamp gleam'd

white;

From the sails the dew did drip

Till clomb above the eastern bar

The horned moon, with one bright star
Within the nether tip.

One after one, by the star-dogg'd moon,
Too quick for groan or sigh,

Each turn'd his face with a ghastly pang,
And cursed me with his eye.

Four times fifty living men,
(And I heard nor sigh nor groan)
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
They dropp'd down one by one.

The souls did from their bodies fly,-
They fled to bliss or woe!

And every soul, it pass'd me by,
Like the whizz of my cross-bow!"

One after
another,

His shipmates drop down dead.

But Life-inDeath begins her work on the ancient Mariner.

PART IV.

“I FEAR thee, ancient Mariner!

I fear thy skinny hand!

The wedding

guest feareth that a spirit is

And thou art long, and lank, and brown, talking to him.

As is the ribb'd sea-sand.1

I fear thee and thy glittering eye,

And thy skinny hand, so brown."

"Fear not, fear not, thou wedding-guest! But the anThis body dropt not down.

cient Mariner assureth him

1 For the last two lines of this stanza, I am indebted to Mr. Wordsworth. It was on a delightful walk from Nether Stowey to Dulverton, with him and his sister, in the autumn of 1797, that this poem was planned, and in part composed.-C. See note, Part I. Wordsworth remarks of this acknowledgment," with unnecessary scrupulosity recorded."

of his bodily

life, and proceedeth to relate his horrible penance.

He despiseth

the creatures of the calm,

And envieth that they should live, and so many lie dead.

But the curse liveth for him in the eye of

the dead men.

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,
And drew my eyes away;
I look'd upon the rotting deck,
And there the dead men lay.

I look'd to Heaven, and tried to pray;
But or ever a prayer had gusht,'
A wicked whisper came, and made
My heart as dry as dust.

I closed my lids, and kept them close,
And 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,
Nor rot nor reek did they :

The look with which they look'd on me
Had never pass'd away.

1 Gusht... dust.] See note to the last line of Recollections of Love.

An orphan's curse would drag to hell

A spirit from on high;

But oh! 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-

In his loneliness and fixedness he yearneth towards the journeying

moon, and the

stars that still sojourn, yet still move onward; and everywhere the blue sky belongs to them, and is their appointed rest, and their native country, and their own natural homes, which they enter unannounced, as lords that are certainly expected, and yet there is a silent joy at their arrival.

Her beams bemock'd the sultry main,
Like April hoar-frost spread;

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 moved 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:

By the light of the moon he beholdeth

God's creatures of the great calm.

1 Stars, &c.] To this exquisite gloss there is nothing to correspond in the text: some such thoughts, which he but vaguely grasps, and does not attempt to express, must be supposed to pass through the brain of the mariner.

Their beauty and their happiness.

He blesseth them in his heart.

The spell begins to break.

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 gush'd from my heart,
And I bless'd them unaware!

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

The selfsame moment I could pray;

And from

my

neck so free

The Albatross fell off, and sank

Like lead into the sea.

By grace of the holy Mother, the ancient Mariner is re

freshed with rain.

PART V.

"OH sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!

To Mary Queen the praise be given !
She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven,
That slid into my soul.

The silly buckets on the deck,
That had so long remain'd,

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;