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, Each one a lovely light: This seraph-band, each wav'd his hand, No voice did they impart— No voice; but O! the silence sank, Eftsones I heard the dash of oars, I heard the pilot's cheer : My head was turn'd perforce away Then vanish'd all the lovely lights; The bodies rose anew : 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 : He singeth loud his godly hymns He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away The Albatross's blood. 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 event He hath a cushion plump : 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? "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, But I ne spake ne stirr'd! The Boat came close beneath the Ship, Under the water it rumbled on, 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 |