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THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER.

PART THE SEVENTH.

The Hermit of This Hermit good lives in that wood
the Wood,

Which slopes down to the sea.
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 cushion plump-:
It is the moss that wholly brides
The rotted old oak-stump.

The Skiff-boat near'd: I heard them talk,
“Why this is strange, I trow.!
Where are those lights so many and fair,
That signal made but now?"

“Strange, by my faith!" the Hermit said- Approacheth

the ship with “ And they answered not our cheer ! wonder. The planks look warped! and see those

sails,
How thin they are and sere !
I never saw ought like to them,
Unless perchance it were

The skeletons of leaves that lag
My forest-brook along:
When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow,
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!
Said the Hermit cheerily.

The boat came closer to the ship,
But I nor spake nor stirred;
The boat came close beneath the ship,
And straight a sound was beard.

The ship suddenlysinketh.

Under the water it rumbled on,

Still louder and more dread:

It reach'd the ship, it split the bay;
The ship went down like lead.

The ancient
Mariner is
saved in the
Pilot's boat.

Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound,
Which sky and ocean smote,
Like one that hath been seven days drown'd,
My body lay afloat;
But swift as dreams, myself I found
Within the Pilot's boat.

Upon the whirl, where sank the ship,
The boat spun round and round;
And all was still, save that the hill
Was telling of the sound.

I moved my lipsthe Pilot shrieked.
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.

And now, all in my own countree,
I stood on the firm land !
The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,
And scarcely he could stand.

“ O shrieve

me,
shrieve

me, holy man!” The Hermit cross'd his brow.

Say quick," quoth he, “ I bid thee say— What manner of man art thou?"

The ancient Mariner earnestly entreateth the Hermit to shrieve him ; and the penance of life falls on hin.

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrench'd

With a woeful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;

And then it left me free.

Since then, at an uncertain hour,
That agony returns;
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.

And ever and anon through out his future life an agony constraineth him to travel

from land to land,

I pass, 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.

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,
Which biddeth me to prayer!

O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.

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,
And all together pray,

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