США. Lyrical Ballads

LYRICAL BALLADS,

CONTENTS.
l The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere
l The Foster-Mother's Tale
l Lines left upon a Seat in a Yew-tree which stands near the Lake of Esthwaite
l The Nightingale, a Conversational Poem
l [Lewti; or the Circassian Love Chant]
l The Female Vagrant
l Goody Blake and Harry Gill
l Lines written at a small distance from my House, and sent by my little Boy to the Person to whom
they are addressed
Simon Lee, the old Huntsman
l Anecdote for Fathers
l We are seven
l Lines written in early spring
l The Thorn
l The last of the Flock
l The Dungeon
l The Mad Mother
l The Idiot Boy
l Lines written near Richmond, upon the Thames, at Evening

l Expostulation and Reply
l The Tables turned; an Evening Scene, on the same subject
l Old Man travelling
l The Complaint of a forsaken Indian Woman
l The Convict
l Lines written a few miles above Tintern Abbey
THE RIME
OF THE
ANCYENT MARINERE,
IN
SEVEN PARTS.
ARGUMENT.
How a ship having passed the Line was driven by Storms to the cold Country towards the South Pole; and how
from thence she made her course to the tropical Latitude of the Great Pacific Ocean; and of the strange things that
befell; and in what manner the Ancyent Marinere came back to his own Country.
I.
It is an ancyent Marinere,
And he stoppeth one of three:
"By thy long grey beard and thy glittering eye
"Now wherefore stoppest me?

The bridegroom's doors are open'd wide
"And I am next of kin;
"The Guests are met, the Feast is set,--
"May'st hear the merry din.
But still he holds the wedding-guest--
There was a Ship, quoth he--
"Nay, if thou'st got a laughsome tale,
"Marinere! come with me."
He holds him with his skinny hand,
Quoth he, there was a Ship--
"Now get thee hence, thou grey-beard Loon!
"Or my Staff shall make thee skip.
He holds him with his glittering eye--
The wedding guest stood still
And listens like a three year's child;
The Marinere hath his will.
The wedding-guest sate on a stone,
He cannot chuse but hear:
And thus spake on that ancyent man,
The bright-eyed Marinere.
The Ship was cheer'd, the Harbour clear'd--
Merrily did we drop
Below the Kirk, below the Hill,
Below the Light-house top.
The Sun came up upon the left,
Out of the Sea came he:
And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the Sea.
Higher and Higher every day,
Till over the mast at noon--
The wedding-guest here beat his breast,
For he heard the loud bassoon.
The Bride hath pac'd into the Hall,
Red as a rose is she;

Nodding their heads before her goes
The merry Minstralsy.
The wedding-guest he beat his breast
Yet he cannot chuse but hear:
And thus spake on that ancyent Man,
The bright-eyed Marinere.
Listen, Stranger! Storm and Wind,
A Wind and Tempest strong!
For days and weeks it play'd us freaks--
Like Chaff we drove along.
Listen, Stranger! Mist and Snow,
And it grew wond'rous cauld:
And Ice mast-high came floating by
As green as Emerauld.
And thro' the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen;
Ne shapes of men ne beasts we ken--
The Ice was all between.
The Ice was here, the Ice was there,
The Ice was all around:
It crack'd and growl'd, and roar'd and howl'd--
Like noises of a swound.
At length did cross an Albatross,
Thorough the Fog it came;
And an it were a Christian Soul,
We hail'd it in God's name.
The Marineres gave it biscuit-worms,
And round and round it flew:
The Ice did split with a thunder-fit;
The Helmsman steer'd us thro'.
And a good south wind sprung up behind,
The Albatross did follow;
And every day for food or play
Came to the Marinere's hollo!

Lyrical Ballads
In mist or cloud on mast or shroud
It perch'd for vespers nine,
Whiles all the night thro' [fog-smoke white]
Glimmer'd the white moon-shine.
"God save thee, ancyent Marinere!
"From the fiends that plague thee thus--
"Why look'st thou so?"--with my cross bow
I shot the Albatross.
II.
The Sun came up upon the right,
Out of the Sea came he;
And broad as a weft upon the left
Went down into the Sea.
And the good south wind still blew behind,
But no sweet Bird did follow
Ne any day for food or play
Came to the Marinere's hollo!
And I had done an hellish thing
And it would work 'em woe;
For all averr'd, I had kill'd the Bird
That made the Breeze to blow.
Ne dim ne red, like God's own head,
The glorious Sun uprist:
Then all averr'd, I had kill'd the Bird
That brought the fog and mist.
T'was right, said they, such birds to slay
That bring the fog and mist.
The breezes blew, the white foam flew,
The furrow follow'd free:
We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent Sea.
Down dropt the breeze, the Sails dropt down,
'Twas sad as sad could be
And we did speak only to break
The silence of the Sea.

All in a hot and copper sky
The bloody sun at noon,
Right up above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the moon.
Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, ne breath ne motion,
As idle as a painted Ship
Upon a painted Ocean.
Water, water every where
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water every where,
Ne any drop to drink.
The very deeps did rot: O Christ!
That ever this should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy Sea.
About, about, in reel and rout
The Death-fires danc'd at night;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green and blue and white.
And some in dreams assured were
Of the Spirit that plagued us so:
Nine fathom deep he had follow'd us
From the Land of Mist and Snow.
And every tongue thro' utter drouth
Was wither'd at the root;
We could not speak no more than if
We had been choked with soot.
Ah wel-a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young;
Instead of the Cross the Albatross
About my neck was hung.
III.

I saw a something in the Sky
No bigger than my fist;
At first it seem'd a little speck
And then it seem'd a mist:
It mov'd and mov'd, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.
A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
And still it ner'd and ner'd;
And, an it dodged a water-sprite,
It plung'd and tack'd and veer'd.
With throat unslack'd, with black lips bak'd
Ne could we laugh, ne wail:
Then while thro' drouth all dumb they stood
I bit my arm and suck'd the blood
And cry'd, A sail! A sail!
With throat unslack'd, 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 th[e]se her naked ribs, which fleck'd
The sun that did behind them peer?
And are th[e]se 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 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
Oft 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!