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The naked Hulk alongside came

And the Twain were playing dice;

"The Game is done! I've won, I've won!"

Quoth she, and whistled thrice.

A gust of wind sterte up behind

And whistled through his bones;

Thro' the hole of his eyes and the hole of his mouth Half-whistles and half-groans.

With never a whisper in the Sea

Off darts the Spectre-ship;

While clombe above the Eastern bar

The horned Moon, with one bright Star

Almost between the tips.

One after one by the horned Moon (Listen, O Stranger! to me)

Each turned his face with a ghastly pang

And cursed me with his ee.

Four times fifty living men,

With never a sigh or groan,

With heavy thump, a lifeless lump

They dropped down one by one.

Their souls did from their bodies fly,

They fled to bliss or woe;

And

every soul it passed me by,

Like the whiz of my Cross-bow."

IV..

"I fear thee, ancient Mariner !

I fear thy skinny hand;

And thou art long and lank and brown

As is the ribbed 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.

Alone, alone, all all alone,

Alone on the wide wide Sea;

And Christ would take no pity on

My soul in agony.

2

The many men so beautiful,

And they all dead did lie!

And a million million slimy things
Lived on-and so did I.

I looked upon the rotting Sea,
And drew my eyes away;

I looked upon the ghastly deck,
And there the dead men lay.

I looked 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,

Till the balls 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.

The cold sweat melted from their limbs,

Nor rot nor reek did they;

The look with which they looked on me,

Had never passed away.

An orphan's curse would drag to Hell

A spirit from on high:

But O! 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.

The moving Moon went up the sky

And no where did abide :

Softly she was going up

And a star or two beside

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