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Bulchevy's Book of English Verse Part 99

Bulchevy's Book of English Verse - LightNovelsOnl.com

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No twilight within the courts of the Sun.

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.



At the rising of the Moon, One after another,

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.

His s.h.i.+pmates drop down dead.

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.

But Life-in-Death begins her work on the ancient Mariner.

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

And every soul, it pa.s.s'd me by Like the whizz of my crossbow!'

PART IV

The Wedding-Guest feareth that a spirit is talking to him;

'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.

But the ancient Mariner a.s.sureth him of his bodily life, and proceedeth to relate his horrible penance.

Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide, wide sea!

And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony.

He despiseth the creatures of the calm.

The many men, so beautiful!

And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I.

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

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 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.

But the curse liveth for him in the eye of the dead men.

The cold sweat melted from their limbs, Nor rot nor 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; 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.

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.

The moving Moon went up the sky, And nowhere did abide; Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside--

Her beams bemock'd the sultry main, Like April h.o.a.r-frost spread; But where the s.h.i.+p's huge shadow lay, The charmed water burnt alway A still and awful red.

By the light of the Moon he beholdeth G.o.d's creatures of the great calm.

Beyond the shadow of the s.h.i.+p, I watch'd the water-snakes: They moved 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: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coil'd and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire.

Their beauty and their happiness.

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.

He blesseth them in his heart.

The spell begins to break.

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

PART V

'O 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.

By grace of the holy Mother, the ancient Mariner is refreshed with rain.

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; Sure I had drunken in my dreams, And still my body drank.

I moved, and could not feel my limbs: I was so light--almost I thought that I had died in sleep, And was a blessed ghost.

He heareth sounds and seeth strange sights and commotions in the sky and the element.

And soon I heard a roaring wind: It did not come anear; But with its sound it shook the sails, That were so thin and sere.

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.

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