The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge - LightNovelsOnl.com
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[Sidenote: And the ancient Mariner beholdeth his native country.]
Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed The light-house top I see? 465 Is this the hill? is this the kirk?
Is this mine own countree?
We drifted o'er the harbour-bar, And I with sobs did pray-- O let me be awake, my G.o.d! 470 Or let me sleep alway.
The harbour-bay was clear as gla.s.s, So smoothly it was strewn!
And on the bay the moonlight lay, And the shadow of the Moon. 475
The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, That stands above the rock: The moonlight steeped in silentness The steady weatherc.o.c.k.
[Sidenote: The angelic spirits leave the dead bodies,]
And the bay was white with silent light, 480 Till rising from the same, Full many shapes, that shadows were, In crimson colours came.
[Sidenote: And appear in their own forms of light.]
A little distance from the prow Those crimson shadows were: 485 I turned my eyes upon the deck-- Oh, Christ! what saw I there!
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 cus.h.i.+on 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 s.h.i.+p 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 s.h.i.+p, But I nor spake nor stirred; The boat came close beneath the s.h.i.+p, And straight a sound was heard. 545
[Sidenote: The s.h.i.+p suddenly sinketh.]
Under the water it rumbled on, Still louder and more dread: It reached the s.h.i.+p, it split the bay; The s.h.i.+p 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 s.h.i.+p, 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 'twas, that G.o.d himself Scarce seemed there to be. 600
O sweeter than the marriage-feast, 'Tis 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!
