I mov'd and could not feel my limbs, I thought that I had died in sleep, And was a blessed Ghost. The roaring wind! it roar'd far off, But with its sound it shook the sails The upper air bursts into life, The stars dance on between. The coming 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 reach'd the ship: it roar'd They groan'd, they stirr'd, they all uprose, It had been strange, even in a dream The helmsman steerd, the ship mov'd on; Yet never a breeze up-blew; The Marineres all 'gan work the ropes, Where they were wont to do: They rais'd their limbs like lifeless tools→→→ We were a ghastly crew. The body of my brother's son The body and I pull'd at one rope, But he said nought to me— And I quak'd to think of my own voice How frightful it would be! The day-light dawn'd—they dropp'd their arms, And cluster'd round the mast: Sweet sounds rose slowly thro' their mouths And from their bodies pass'd. Around, around, flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the sun : Slowly the sounds came back again Now mix'd, now one by one. Sometimes a dropping from the sky Sometimes all little birds that are How they seem'd to fill the sea and air With their sweet jargoning, And now 'twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song That makes the heavens be mute. It ceas'd 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. Listen, O listen, thou Wedding-guest! "Marinere! thou hast thy will: "For that, which comes out of thine eye, doth make "My body and soul to be still." Never sadder tale was told To a man of woman born : Sadder and wiser thou wedding-guest! Never sadder tale was heard By a man of woman born: The Marineres all return'd to work As silent as beforne. The Marineres all 'gan pull the ropes, Thought I, I am as thin as air— They cannot me behold. |