Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat; And by the Holy rood A man all light, a seraph-man, This seraph-band, each wav'd his hand : It was a heavenly sight: They stood as signals to the land, This seraph-band, each wav'd his hand, No voice; but O! the silence sank, Eftsones I heard the dash of oars, Then vanish'd all the lovely lights; With silent pace, each to his place, The wind, that shade nor motion made, The pilot, and the pilot's boy I saw a third—I heard his voice: The Albatross's blood. VII. This Hermit good lives in that wood That come from a far Contrée. He kneels at morn and noon and eve- It is the moss, that wholly hides The rotted old Oak-stump. 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 ? 66 86 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 "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 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: Stunn'd by that loud and dreadful sound, Like one that hath been seven days drown'd |