== I == II == III == IV == V == VI == VII ==


O sleep, it is a gentle thing
     Belov'd from pole to pole!
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
     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.

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,
     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:
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 ship: it roar'd
     And dropp'd down, like a stone! 320
Beneath the lightning and the moon
     The dead men gave a groan.

They groan'd, they stirr'd, they all uprose,
     Ne spake, ne mov'd their eyes:
It had been strange, even in a dream
     To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steer'd, the ship mov'd on;
     Yet never a breeze up-blew;
The Marineres all 'gan work the ropes,
     Where they were wont to do: 330
They rais'd their limbs like lifeless tools—
     We were a ghastly crew.

The body of my brother's son
     Stood by me knee to knee:
The body and I pull'd at one rope,
     But he said nought to me—
And I quak'd to think of my own voice
     How frightful it would be!

The day-light dawn'd—they dropp'd their arms,
     And cluster'd round the mast: 340
Sweet sounds rose slowly thro' their mouths
     And from their bodies pass'd.

Around, around, flew each sweet sound,
     Then darted to the sun:
Slowly the sounds came back again
     Now mix'd, now one by one.

Sometimes a dropping from the sky
     I heard the Lavrock sing;
Sometimes all little birds that are
How they seem'd to fill the sea and air 350
     With their sweet jargoning,

And now 'twas like all instruments,
     Now like a lonely flute;
And now it is an angel's song
     That makes the heavens be mute.

It ceas'd: yet still the sails made on
     A pleasant noise till noon,
A noise like of a hidden brook
     In the leafy month of June,
That to the sleeping woods all night 360
     Singeth a quiet tune.

Listen, O listen, thou Wedding-guest!
     "Marinere! thou hast thy will:
"For that, which comes out of thine eye, doth make    
     "My body and soul to be still."

Never sadder tale was told
     To a man of woman born:
Sadder and wiser thou wedding-guest!
     Thou'lt rise to morrow morn.

Never sadder tale was heard 370
     By a man of woman born:
The Marineres all return'd to work
     As silent as beforne.

The Marineres all 'gan pull the ropes,
     But look at me they n'old:
Thought I, I am as thin as air—
     They cannot me behold.

Till noon we silently sail'd on
     Yet never a breeze did breathe:
Slowly and smoothly went the ship 380
     Mov'd onward from beneath.

Under the keel nine fathom deep
     From the land of mist and snow
The spirit slid: and it was He
     That made the Ship to go.
The sails at noon left off their tune
     And the Ship stood still also.

The sun right up above the mast
     Had fix'd her to the ocean:
But in a minute she 'gan stir 390
     With a short uneasy motion—
Backwards and forwards half her length
     With a short uneasy motion.

Then, like a pawing horse let go,
     She made a sudden bound:
It flung the blood into my head,
     And I fell into a swound.

How long in that same fit I lay,
     I have not to declare;
But ere my living life return'd, 400
I heard and in my soul discern'd
     Two voices in the air,

"Is it he? quoth one, "Is this the man?
     "By him who died on cross,
"With his cruel bow he lay'd full low
     "The harmless Albatross.

"The spirit who bideth by himself
     "In the land of mist and snow,
"He lov'd the bird that lov'd the man
     "Who shot him with his bow.

The other was a softer voice,
     As soft as honey-dew:
Quoth he the man hath penance done,
     And penance more will do.


== I == II == III == IV == V == VI == VII ==