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with black lips bak’d

       Agape they hear’d me call:

       Gramercy! they for joy did grin

       And all at once their breath drew in

       As they were drinking all.

      She doth not tack from side to side —

       Hither to work us weal

       Withouten wind, withouten tide

       She steddies with upright keel.

      The western wave was all a flame,

       The day was well nigh done!

       Almost upon the western wave

       Rested the broad bright Sun;

       When that strange shape drove suddenly

       Betwixt us and the Sun.

      And strait the Sun was fleck’d with bars

       (Heaven’s mother send us grace)

       As if thro’ a dungeon grate he peer’d

       With broad and burning face.

      Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)

       How fast she neres and neres!

       Are those her Sails that glance in the Sun

       Like restless gossameres?

      Are these her naked ribs, which fleck’d

       The sun that did behind them peer?

       And are these two all, all the crew,

       That woman and her fleshless Pheere?

      His bones were black with many a crack,

       All black and bare, I ween;

       Jet-black and bare, save where with rust

       Of mouldy damps and charnel crust

       They’re patch’d with purple and green.

      Her lips are red, her looks are free,

       Her locks are yellow as gold:

       Her skin is as white as leprosy,

       And she is far liker Death than he;

       Her flesh makes the still air cold.

      The naked Hulk alongside came

       And the Twain were playing dice;

       “The Game is done! I’ve won, I’ve won!”

       Quoth she, and whistled thrice.

      A gust of wind sterte up behind

       And whistled thro’ his bones;

       Thro’ the holes of his eyes and the hole of his mouth

       Half-whistles and half-groans.

      With never a whisper in the Sea

       Off darts the Spectre-ship;

       While clombe above the Eastern bar

       The horned Moon, with one bright Star

       Almost atween the tips.

      One after one by the horned Moon

       (Listen, O Stranger! to me)

       Each turn’d his face with a ghastly pang

       And curs’d me with his ee.

      Four times fifty living men,

       With never a sigh or groan,

       With heavy thump, a lifeless lump

       They dropp’d down one by one.

      Their souls did from their bodies fly, —

       They fled to bliss or woe;

       And every soul it pass’d me by,

       Like the whiz of my Cross-bow.

      IV.

      “I fear thee, ancyent Marinere!

       ”I fear thy skinny hand;

       “And thou art long and lank and brown

       ”As is the ribb’d Sea-sand.

      “I fear thee and thy glittering eye

       ”And thy skinny hand so brown” —

       Fear not, fear not, thou wedding guest!

       This body dropt not down.

      Alone, alone, all all alone

       Alone on the wide wide Sea;

       And Christ would take no pity on

       My soul in agony.

      The many men so beautiful,

       And they all dead did lie!

       And a million million slimy things

       Liv’d on — and so did I.

      I look’d upon the rotting Sea,

       And drew my eyes away;

       I look’d upon the eldritch deck,

       And there the dead men lay.

      I look’d to Heaven, and try’d to pray;

       But or ever a prayer had gusht,

       A wicked whisper came and made

       My heart as dry as dust.

      I clos’d my lids and kept them close,

       Till the balls like pulses beat;

       For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky

       Lay like a load on my weary eye,

       And the dead were at my feet.

      The cold sweat melted from their limbs,

       Ne rot, ne reek did they;

       The look with which they look’d on me,

       Had never pass’d away.

      An orphan’s curse would drag to Hell

       A spirit from on high:

       But O! more horrible than that

       Is the curse in a dead man’s eye!

       Seven days, seven nights I saw that curse

       And yet I could not die.

      The moving Moon went up the sky

       And no where did abide:

       Softly she was going up

       And a star or two beside —

      Her beams bemock’d the sultry main

       Like morning frosts yspread;

       But where the ship’s huge shadow lay,

       The charmed water burnt alway

       A still and awful red.

      Beyond the shadow of the ship

       I watch’d the water-snakes:

       They mov’d in tracks of shining white;

       And when they rear’d, the elfish light

       Fell off in hoary flakes.

      Within the shadow of the ship

       I watch’d their rich attire:

       Blue, glossy green, and velvet black

       They coil’d and swam; and every track

       Was a flash of golden fire.

      O happy living things! no tongue

       Their beauty might declare:

       A spring of love gusht from my heart,

       And I bless’d them unaware!

       Sure my kind saint took pity on me,

       And I bless’d them unaware.

      The selfsame moment I could pray;

       And from my neck so free

       The

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