VII. This Hermit good lives in that 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 Contrée. He kneels at morn and noon and eve- The Skiff-boat ne'rd: 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"And they answer'd not our cheer. "The planks look warp'd, and see those sails "How thin they are and sere! "I never saw aught like to them "Unless perchance it were "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 has a fiendish look (The Pilot made reply) "I am a-fear'd.-" Push on, push on! "Said the Hermit cheerily. The Boat came closer to the Ship, The Boat came close beneath the Ship, Under the water it rumbled on, Still louder and more dread: It reach'd the Ship, it split the bay; Stunn'd by that loud and dreadful sound, Like one that hath been seven days drown'd But, swift as dreams, myself I found Upon the whirl, where sank the Ship, I mov'd my lips: the Pilot shriek'd And fell down in a fit. The Holy Hermit rais'd his eyes And pray'd where he did sit. I took the oars: the Pilot's boy, Who now doth crazy go, Laugh'd 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 mine own Countree I stood on the firm land! The Hermit stepp'd forth from the boat, "O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy Man! The Hermit cross'd his brow "Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say "What manner man art thou? Forthwith this frame of mine was wrench'd With a woeful agony, Which forc'd me to begin my tale And then it left me free. Since then at an uncertain hour, Now oftimes and now fewer, That anguish comes and makes me tell |