The Rime of the Ancient Mariner

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Scott, Foresman & Company, 1898 - 103 psl.

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15 psl. - It ceased; 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 Singeth a quiet tune.
17 psl. - Thy soft response renewing — What makes that ship drive on so fast ? What is the ocean doing ? SECOND VOICE Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the moon is cast — If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see ! how graciously She looketh down on him.
22 psl. - 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, 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.
14 psl. - Around, around, flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the Sun; Slowly the sounds came back again, Now mixed, now one by one. Sometimes a-dropping from the sky I heard the skylark sing; Sometimes all little birds that are, How they seemed to fill the sea and air With their sweet jargoning!
28 psl. - It ate the food it ne'er had eat, And round and round it flew. The ice did split with a thunder-fit; The helmsman steered us through! And a good south wind sprung up behind; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, Came to the mariners
13 psl. - And the coming wind did roar more loud, And the sails did sigh like sedge ; And the rain poured down from one black cloud • The Moon was at its edge. The thick black cloud was cleft, and still The Moon was at its side : Like waters shot from some high crag, The lightning fell with never a jag, A river steep and wide.
12 psl. - 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.
19 psl. - The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, That stands above the rock: The moonlight steeped in silentness The steady weathercock. And the bay was white with silent light, Till rising from the same, Full many shapes, that shadows were, In crimson colours came.
27 psl. - And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold: And ice, mast-high, came floating by, As green as emerald.
18 psl. - But soon there breathed a wind on me, Nor sound nor motion made: Its path was not upon the sea, In ripple or in shade. It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow-gale of spring — It mingled strangely with my fears, Yet it felt like a welcoming.

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