Part 3 (1/2)

Is that a Death? and are there two?

Is Death that Woman's mate?

Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold: Her skin was as white as leprosy, The Night-mare Life-in-Death was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold.

The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice; ”The game is done! I've won! I've won!”

Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: At one stride comes the dark; With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea, Off shot the spectre-bark.

We listened and looked sideways up!

Fear at my heart, as at a cup, My life-blood seemed to sip!

The stars were dim, and thick the night, The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white; From the sails the dew did drip-- Till clomb above the eastern bar The horned Moon, with one bright star Within the nether tip.

One after one, by the star-dogged Moon, Too quick for groan or sigh, Each turned his face with a ghastly pang, And cursed me with his eye.

Four times fifty living men, (And I heard nor sigh nor groan) With heavy thump, a lifeless lump, They dropped down one by one.

The souls did from their bodies fly,-- They fled to bliss or woe!

And every soul, it pa.s.sed me by, Like the whizz of my cross-bow!

PART IV

”I fear thee, ancient Mariner!

I fear thy skinny hand!

And thou art long, and lank, and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand.[1]

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 a wide wide sea!

And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony.

The many men, so beautiful!

And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I.

I looked upon the rotting sea, And drew my eyes away; I looked upon the rotting deck, And there the dead men lay.

I looked to heaven, and tried to pray; But or ever a prayer had gusht, A wicked whisper came, and made My heart as dry as dust.

I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the b.a.l.l.s 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, Nor rot nor reek did they: The look with which they looked on me Had never pa.s.sed away.

An orphan's curse would drag to h.e.l.l A spirit from on high; But oh! more horrible than that Is a 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--