C.W. McCune
Plan, Town of Lowell, Massachussetts, 1832
William Henry Smith
The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around.
Man on Ship
It ate the food it ne'er had eat.
The moving Moon went up the sky.
Title Page
And on the bay the moonlight lay, And the shadow of the Moon.
That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me.
So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.
With my cross-bow I shot the Albatross.
Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And yet I could not die.
Frontispiece.
I heard and in my soul discerned Two voices in the air.
And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony.
I looked upon the rotting sea, And drew my eyes away.
Under the water it rumbled on, Still louder and more dread.
'The game is done! I've won! I've won!' Quoth she, and whistles thrice.
And the rain poured down from one black cloud.
Since thou art pitiless, thy weary way
The Mariner, whose eye is bright, Whose beard with age is hoar, Is gone.
And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold.
Nine fathom deep he had followed us From the land of mist and snow.
But why drives on that ship so fast, Without or wave or wind?
Beyond the shadow of the ship, I watched the water-snakes.
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.
Each turned his face with a ghastly pang, And cursed me with his eye.
It flung the blood into my head, And I fell down in a swound.
"I moved my lips," the Pilot shrieked And fell down in a fit
Full many shapes, that shadows were, In crimson colours came.
And I had done a hellish thing, And it would work 'em woe.
O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!
TBL020: Bronze and silver medallions from the Buffalo, New York Centennial, 1832-1932, with General Committee ribbon
Without and ado It slipt into the shoe!
Who are you, You queer little crew?
Far away Shines a single ray.
Nevermore.
What loud uproar bursts from that door! The wedding-guests are there.
They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, Nor spake, nor moved their eyes.
This seraph-band, each waved his hand: It was a heavenly sight!
By thy long beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
About, about, in reel and rout The death-fires danced at night.
Water, water, every where, And all the boards did shrink.
By arm, leg, or head, He dragged all the urchins from under the bed.
The secret of the Sphinx.
It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon.
Too late he feels, by look, and deed, and word, How often he has crucified his Lord.
On, through morass and slough, he strives to fly From hateful memories of days gone by.
Transdix'd with awe, he feels his God is nigh
Open here I flung the shutter.
Wandering from the Nightly shore.
Sorrow for the lost Lenore.
On this home by Horror haunted.
ANATKH.
A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! And still it neared and neared
The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled.
Now pumpkins-some fry 'em, some boil 'em, some stew 'em But no one before ever made one a brougham!
Oh, Granny, your teeth are tremendous in size! They're to eat you! - and he ate her!
I'm going to my granny's to carry this jar And this cake from my mother. Indeed! Is it Far?
And here and there along the track Dropping a pebble to guide him back.
Spell-bound, they gather far and near to scan The weird senescence of that wondrous man.
Now when fantastic visions fill the air, Sorrow surrenders to a dull despair.
The end releases other men from strife, His fate is ceaseless toil and deathless life.
--Here I opened wide the door
-- Darkness there, and nothing more.
Upon the whirl, where sank the ship, The boat spun round and round.
I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech.
Then haste to your stations And make him the lowest of low salutations
He saw on her cheek a tear-drop glisten, So he hid himself under her chair to listen.
That embowered pile did seem A cloud from some fantastic dream.
Every step be nearer set, Oped the eyes of violet.
Until he reached the grandest room of all, The banquet-hall.
The Judgement Day! He hears the trumpet's blast
In vain they offer wine, with drunken jest
Tell me truly, I implore-- Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!
The abode, I suppose, of a man of position? The palace, said they 'of a mighty magician!'
Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.
While this way or that way each rapidly shoots off Hop o' my Thumb takes the seven league Boots off.
Huntsman bold returned from sport Snoring, horns to lips!
Before she had time to exclaim 'oh, my gracious!' She was bolted entire by the monster voracious.
His cries the whole neighborhood round might awaken - The Marquis of Carabas' clothes have been taken!
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-- Nameless here for evermore.
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore!
'Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked, upstarting.
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted--nevermore!
Secure he stands, and fearless gazes round, Where arrows fall and corpses strew the ground.
The Flagellation
The Crucifixion
The Last Supper
The Betrayal
Solomon
The War Against Gibeon
The Prodigal Son
The Ascension
The Nativity
The Return Of The Ark
Isaiah
The Deluge
