THE RIME OF THE ANCYENT MARINERE-5

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    V.

    O sleep, it is a gehing

    Belovd from pole to pole!

    To Mary-queen the praise be yeven

    She sent the g<dfn>藏书网</dfle sleep from heaven

    That slid into my soul.

    The silly buckets on the deck

    That had so long remaind,

    I dreamt that they were ?lld with dew

    And when I awoke it raind.

    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 movd 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 r wind! it roard far off,

    It did not e anear;

    But with its sound it shook the sails

    That were so thin and sere.

    The upper air bursts into life,

    And a hundred ?re-?ags sheen

    To and fro they are hurried about;

    And to and fro, and in and out

    The stars dan between.

    The ing wind doth roar more loud;

    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 reachd the ship: it roard

    And droppd down, like a stone!

    Beh the lightning and the moon

    The dead men gave a groan.

    They groand, they stirrd, they all uprose,

    Ne spake, ne movd their eyes:

    It had been strange, even in a dream

    To have seen those dead men rise.

    The helmsman steerd, the ship movd on;

    Yet never a breeze up-blew;

    The Marineres all gan work the ropes,

    Where they were wont to do:

    They raisd their limbs like lifeless tools--

    We were a ghastly crew.

    The body of my brothers son

    Stood by me ko knee:

    The body and I pulld at one rope,

    But he said nought to me--

    And I quakd to think of my own voice

    Hhtful it would be!

    The day-light dawnd--they droppd their arms,

    And clusterd round the mast:

    Sweet sounds rose slowly thro their mouths

    And from their bodies passd.

    Around, around, ?ew each sweet sound,

    Then darted to the sun:

    Slowly the sounds came back again

    Now mixd, now one by one.

    Sometimes a dropping from the sky

    I heard the Lavrock sing;

    Sometimes all little birds that are

    How they seemd to ?ll the sea and air

    With their sweet jargoning,

    And now twas like all instruments,

    Now like a lonely ?ute;

    And now it is an angels song

    That makes the heavee.

    It ceasd: yet still the sails made on

    A pleasant ill noon,

    A noise like of a hidden brook

    In the leafy month of June,

    That to the sleeping woods all night

    Sih a quiet tune.

    Listen, O listen, thou Wedding-guest!

    &quot;Marihou hast thy will:

    &quot;For that, whies out of thine eye, doth make

    &quot;My body and soul to be still.&quot;

    Never sadder tale was told

    To a man of woman born:

    Sadder and wiser thou wedding-guest!

    Thoult rise to morrow morn.

    Never sadder tale was heard

    By a man of woman born:

    The Marineres all returnd to work

    As silent as beforne.

    The Marineres all gan pull the ropes,

    But look at me they nold:

    Thought I, I am as thin as air--

    They e behold.

    Till moon we silently saild on

    Yet never a breeze did breathe:

    Slowly and smoothly went the ship

    Movd onward from beh.

    Uhe keel hom deep

    From the land of mist and snow

    The spirit slid: and it was He

    That made the Ship to go.

    The sails at noo off their tune

    And the Ship stood still also.

    The sun right up above the mast

    Had ?xd her to the o:

    But in a minute she gan stir

    With<cite></cite> a short uneasy motion--

    Backwards and forwards half her l<dfn></dfh

    With a short uneasy motion.

    Then, like a pawing horse let go,

    She made a sudden bound:

    It ?ung the blood into my head,

    And I fell into a swound.

    How long in that same ?t I lay,

    I have not to declare;

    <cite></cite>But ere my living life returnd,

    I heard and in my soul disd

    Two voices in the air,

    &quot;Is it he?&quot; quoth one, &quot;Is this the man?

    &quot;By him who died on cross,

    &quot;With his cruel bow he layd full low

    &quot;The harmless Albatross.

    &quot;The spirit who bideth by himself

    &quot;In the land of mist and snow,

    &quot;He lovd the bird that lovd the man

    &quot;Who shot him with his bow.&quot;

    The other was a softer voice,

    As soft as honey-dew:

    Quoth he the man hath penance done,

    And penance more will do.

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