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The Mariner, whose eye is bright, Whose beard with age is hoar, Is gone.
So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.
What loud uproar bursts from that door! The wedding-guests are there.
That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me.
I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech.
O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!
"I moved my lips," the Pilot shrieked And fell down in a fit
Upon the whirl, where sank the ship, The boat spun round and round.
Under the water it rumbled on, Still louder and more dread.
This seraph-band, each waved his hand: It was a heavenly sight!
Full many shapes, that shadows were, In crimson colours came.
And on the bay the moonlight lay, And the shadow of the Moon.
But why drives on that ship so fast, Without or wave or wind?
I heard and in my soul discerned Two voices in the air.
It flung the blood into my head, And I fell down in a swound.
It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon.
They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, Nor spake, nor moved their eyes.
And the rain poured down from one black cloud.
Beyond the shadow of the ship, I watched the water-snakes.
The moving Moon went up the sky.
Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And yet I could not die.
I looked upon the rotting sea, And drew my eyes away.
And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony.
Each turned his face with a ghastly pang, And cursed me with his eye.
'The game is done! I've won! I've won!' Quoth she, and whistles thrice.
A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! And still it neared and neared
Nine fathom deep he had followed us From the land of mist and snow.
About, about, in reel and rout The death-fires danced at night.
Water, water, every where, And all the boards did shrink.
And I had done a hellish thing, And it would work 'em woe.
With my cross-bow I shot the Albatross.
It ate the food it ne'er had eat.
The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around.
And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold.
The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled.
The bride hath paced into the hall, Red as a rose is she.
The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone: He cannot choose but hear.
By thy long beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
Man on Ship