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Posted

here's a pretty long poem i composed myself

please tell me if you like it

 

 

 

We march forward whatever may be

 

 

We march forward whatever may be

Grasping the sword’s hilt ready to slay thee

We are neither petrified by a large division nor a tiny bee

We march forward what ever may be

 

We cross all terrains braving all sand storms and the fury of rains

Ever ready for a hand to hand combat or firing at a point blank range

For our victory is our country’s gain

To our destination we parade

Ever ready for a full frontal assault or a divisionary raid

We march forward whatever may be

 

Shoulder to shoulder foot to foot we march

Waiting till we obliterate our enemies beyond the hill’s arch

We fight in broad daylight and in the dark

We march forward whatever may be

Our dauntless ranks will never flee

 

With our day’s duty fulfilled

Thinking of the innumerable men we killed

We march forward what ever may be

We only bend down before the almighty

 

We fight at our lord’s will

We fight for our right to live

We fight for our glorious motherland

We fight for the honour of our clan

 

We march forward whatever may be

Always protecting the pride of our country

 

Step by step we advance into the battle field

Step by step we unsheathe our swords and dress our shields

Step by step we break the enemy’s ranks

Step by step from all directions we flank

 

We walk into an ambush with a straight face

We slay the enemy there not in much of a haste

We don’t retreat but advance in an another direction

Only wondering whether our deeds will make history or a measly book of fiction

We march forward whatever may be

And ensure the fruit of our labour a sweet one to be

 

Death of a man is a tragedy,

Death of a million is just a statistic

it does not matter when we lay down our lives for our country

for our flesh , our blood, and our soul is patriotic

We march forward whatever may be

Not afraid of death are we

 

We are born for our country

we live for our country

We fight for our country

we die for our country

 

We march forward whatever may be

We go proudly into the hands of the almighty

We advance to make history

 

that's it

TBA

Posted
i recently read turtles thread poems of any length this as you see i am posting in the water cooler

 

please fell free to post poems / comments here

 

TBA

 

We discourage duplicate threads. Feel free to post your poems in the existing thread(s). :)

Posted
We discourage duplicate threads. Feel free to post your poems in the existing thread(s). :)

 

turtle

i know this already but as i am not a member of the lounge i was not able to post my post there .....

 

i hope you understand ..

i dedicated this thread to those who are not in the lounge to post their posts over this topic

 

forgive me if i have erred in doing this

 

TBA

Posted
turtle

i know this already but as i am not a member of the lounge i was not able to post my post there .....

 

i hope you understand ..

i dedicated this thread to those who are not in the lounge to post their posts over this topic

 

forgive me if i have erred in doing this

 

TBA

 

:eek: :naughty: :doh: No forgive me; I entirely forgot the thread is in the lounge. My bad.:cup:

 

Upon my word,

I made a blunder,

this poem then goes,

to stump me under.

;) (:cup: ) :phones:

Posted
i know this already but as i am not a member of the lounge i was not able to post my post there .....

 

It's actually pretty helpful if you look at what are called "Stickies" which remain at the top of a forum's threads. In the Lounge, the two stickies shown help with the issue you describe above:

 

http://hypography.com/forums/lounge/1469-quiet-lounge-rules-how-join.html#post19331

 

http://hypography.com/forums/lounge/1523-lounge-member-wannabees.html

 

 

Memberships not guarenteed

Requests still come through

If the admin is feeling generous

One may be granted to you.

 

 

Tally-ho. :cup:

  • 1 year later...
Posted

Every Morning I look to The Sky

Wonderful is the moon kissing good-bye,

The majestic sun wraps us ove

From a mystic net, i hover

 

Every morning I wake from Dreams

into an hidden reality

Where everything is not what it seems.

Is this just another Virtuality?

 

Every Morning I rub my eyes

Revealing My self to a world that cries

A World pierced by greed

Everyone wanting to be freed

 

Every Morning I Stretch Out

Accepting the world today

Entering Destiny's bout

Should i Survive At bay?

 

Every morning i look to the sky

My day begins by

Seeing the moon set

or the sun rise...

TBA

  • 1 month later...
Posted

RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER

-S.T.COLERIDGE

PART I

 

An ancient Mariner meeteth three Gallants bidden to a wedding-feast, and detaineth one.

It is an ancient Mariner,

And he stoppeth one of three.

`By thy long beard and glittering eye,

Now wherefore stopp'st thou me ?

The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,

And I am next of kin ;

The guests are met, the feast is set :

May'st hear the merry din.'

 

He holds him with his skinny hand,

`There was a ship,' quoth he.

`Hold off ! unhand me, grey-beard loon !'

Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

 

The Wedding-Guest is spell-bound by the eye of the old seafaring man, and constrained to hear his tale.

 

He holds him with his glittering eye--

The Wedding-Guest stood still,

And listens like a three years' child :

The Mariner hath his will.

The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone :

He cannot choose but hear ;

And thus spake on that ancient man,

The bright-eyed Mariner.

`The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,

Merrily did we drop

Below the kirk, below the hill,

Below the lighthouse top.

 

The Mariner tells how the ship sailed southward with a good wind and fair weather, till it reached the Line.

 

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 Wedding-Guest heareth the bridal music ; but the Mariner continueth his tale.

The bride hath paced into the hall,

Red as a rose is she ;

Nodding their heads before her goes

The merry minstrelsy.

The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast,

Yet he cannot choose but hear ;

And thus spake on that ancient man,

The bright-eyed Mariner.

 

 

The ship driven by a storm toward the south pole.

 

 

`And now the STORM-BLAST came, and he

Was tyrannous and strong :

He struck with his o'ertaking wings,

And chased us south along.

With sloping masts and dipping prow,

As who pursued with yell and blow

Still treads the shadow of his foe,

And forward bends his head,

The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,

The southward aye we fled.

And now there came both mist and snow,

And it grew wondrous cold :

And ice, mast-high, came floating by,

As green as emerald.

 

The land of ice, and of fearful sounds where no living thing was to be seen.

 

And through the drifts the snowy clifts

Did send a dismal sheen :

Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken--

The ice was all between.

The ice was here, the ice was there,

The ice was all around :

It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,

Like noises in a swound !

 

 

Till a great sea-bird, called the Albatross, came through the snow-fog, and was received with great joy and hospitality.

 

 

At length did cross an Albatross,

Thorough the fog it came ;

As if it had been a Christian soul,

We hailed it in God's name.

It ate the food it ne'er had eat,

And round and round it flew.

The ice did split with a thunder-fit ;

The helmsman steered us through !

 

 

And lo ! the Albatross proveth a bird of good omen, and followeth the ship as it returned northward through fog and floating ice.

 

 

And a good south wind sprung up behind ;

The Albatross did follow,

And every day, for food or play,

Came to the mariner's hollo !

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,

It perched for vespers nine ;

Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,

Glimmered the white Moon-shine.'

 

 

The ancient Mariner inhospitably killeth the pious bird of good omen.

 

 

`God save thee, ancient Mariner !

From the fiends, that plague thee thus !--

Why look'st thou so ?'--With my cross-bow

I shot the ALBATROSS.

Posted

PART II

 

The Sun now rose upon the right :

Out of the sea came he,

Still hid in mist, and on the left

Went down into the sea.

And the good south wind still blew behind,

But no sweet bird did follow,

Nor any day for food or play

Came to the mariners' hollo !

 

 

His shipmates cry out against the ancient Mariner, for killing the bird of good luck.

 

And I had done an hellish thing,

And it would work 'em woe :

For all averred, I had killed the bird

That made the breeze to blow.

Ah wretch ! said they, the bird to slay,

That made the breeze to blow !

 

 

But when the fog cleared off, they justify the same, and thus make themselves accomplices in the crime.

 

 

Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,

The glorious Sun uprist :

Then all averred, I had killed the bird

That brought the fog and mist.

'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,

That bring the fog and mist.

 

 

The fair breeze continues ; the ship enters the Pacific Ocean, and sails northward, even till it reaches the Line.

 

 

The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,

The furrow followed free ;

We were the first that ever burst

Into that silent sea.

 

 

The ship hath been suddenly becalmed.

 

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, nor breath nor motion ;

As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.

 

 

And the Albatross begins to be avenged.

 

Water, water, every where,

And all the boards did shrink ;

Water, water, every where,

Nor any drop to drink.

 

The very deep 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 danced at night ;

The water, like a witch's oils,

Burnt green, and blue and white.

 

 

A Spirit had followed them ; one of the invisible inhabitants of this planet, neither departed souls nor angels ; concerning whom the learned Jew, Josephus, and the Platonic Constantinopolitan, Michael Psellus, may be consulted. They are very numerous, and there is no climate or element without one or more.

 

And some in dreams assuréd were

Of the Spirit that plagued us so ;

Nine fathom deep he had followed us

From the land of mist and snow.

 

And every tongue, through utter drought,

Was withered at the root ;

We could not speak, no more than if

We had been choked with soot.

 

 

The shipmates, in their sore distress, would fain throw the whole guilt on the ancient Mariner : in sign whereof they hang the dead sea-bird round his neck.

Ah ! well a-day ! what evil looks

Had I from old and young !

Instead of the cross, the Albatross

About my neck was hung.

Posted

PART III

 

There passed a weary time. Each throat

Was parched, and glazed each eye.

A weary time ! a weary time !

 

How glazed each weary eye,

When looking westward, I beheld

A something in the sky.

 

 

The ancient Mariner beholdeth a sign in the element afar off.

 

At first it seemed a little speck,

And then it seemed a mist ;

It moved and moved, and took at last

A certain shape, I wist.

 

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist !

And still it neared and neared :

As if it dodged a water-sprite,

It plunged and tacked and veered.

 

 

At its nearer approach, it seemeth him to be a ship ; and at a dear ransom he freeth his speech from the bonds of thirst.

 

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,

We could nor laugh nor wail ;

Through utter drought all dumb we stood !

I bit my arm, I sucked the blood,

And cried, A sail ! a sail !

 

A flash of joy ;

 

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,

Agape they heard me call :

Gramercy ! they for joy did grin,

And all at once their breath drew in,

As they were drinking all.

 

And horror follows. For can it be a ship that comes onward without wind or tide ?

 

See ! see ! (I cried) she tacks no more !

Hither to work us weal ;

Without a breeze, without a tide,

She steadies 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.

 

It seemeth him but the skeleton of a ship.

 

And straight the Sun was flecked with bars,

(Heaven's Mother send us grace !)

As if through a dungeon-grate he peered

With broad and burning face.

 

And its ribs are seen as bars on the face of the setting Sun.

 

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

How fast she nears and nears !

Are those her sails that glance in the Sun,

Like restless gossameres ?

 

The Spectre-Woman and her Death-mate, and no other on board the skeleton ship.

 

And those her ribs through which the Sun

Did peer, as through a grate ?

And is that Woman all her crew ?

Is that a DEATH ? and are there two ?

Is DEATH that woman's mate ?

[first version of this stanza through the end of Part III]

And those 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.

There 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.

Posted

PART V

 

The Wedding-Guest feareth that a Spirit is talking to him ;

`I fear thee, ancient Mariner !

I fear thy skinny hand !

And thou art long, and lank, and brown,

As is the ribbed sea-sand.

(Coleridge's note on above stanza)

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.

 

But the ancient Mariner assureth him of his bodily life, and proceedeth to relate his horrible penance.

 

Alone, alone, all, all alone,

Alone on a wide wide sea !

And never a saint took pity on

My soul in agony.

 

He despiseth the creatures of the calm,

The many men, so beautiful !

And they all dead did lie :

And a thousand thousand slimy things

Lived on ; and so did I.

 

And envieth that they should live, and so many lie dead.

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 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.

 

But the curse liveth for him in the eye of the dead men.

The cold sweat melted from their limbs,

Nor rot nor reek did they :

The look with which they looked on me

Had never passed away.

An orphan's curse would drag to hell

A spirit from on high ;

 

But oh ! 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.

 

In his loneliness and fixedness he yearneth towards the journeying Moon, and the stars that still sojourn, yet still move onward ; and every where the blue sky belongs to them, and is their appointed rest, and their native country and their own natural homes, which they enter unannounced, as lords that are certainly expected and yet there is a silent joy at their arrival.

 

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 bemocked the sultry main,

 

Like April hoar-frost spread ;

But where the ship's huge shadow lay,

The charméd water burnt alway

A still and awful red.

 

By the light of the Moon he beholdeth God's creatures of the great calm.

 

Beyond the shadow of the ship,

I watched the water-snakes :

They moved in tracks of shining white,

And when they reared, the elfish light

Fell off in hoary flakes.

 

Within the shadow of the ship

I watched their rich attire :

Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,

They coiled and swam ; and every track

Was a flash of golden fire.

 

Their beauty and their happiness.

He blesseth them in his heart.

 

O happy living things ! no tongue

Their beauty might declare :

A spring of love gushed from my heart,

And I blessed them unaware :

Sure my kind saint took pity on me,

And I blessed them unaware.

 

The spell begins to break.

The self-same moment I could pray ;

And from my neck so free

The Albatross fell off, and sank

Like lead into the sea.

Posted

PART VI

 

Oh sleep ! it is a gentle thing,

Beloved from pole to pole !

To Mary Queen the praise be given !

She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven,

That slid into my soul.

 

By grace of the holy Mother, the ancient Mariner is refreshed with rain.

 

The silly buckets on the deck,

That had so long remained,

I dreamt that they were filled with dew ;

And when I awoke, it rained.

 

My lips were wet, my throat was cold,

My garments all were dank ;

Sure I had drunken in my dreams,

And still my body drank.

 

I moved, and could not feel my limbs :

I was so light--almost

I thought that I had died in sleep,

And was a blesséd ghost.

 

He heareth sounds and seeth strange sights and commotions in the sky and the element.

And soon I heard a roaring wind :

It did not come anear ;

But with its sound it shook the sails,

That were so thin and sere.

The upper air burst into life !

And a hundred fire-flags sheen,

To and fro they were hurried about !

And to and fro, and in and out,

The wan stars danced between.

And the coming wind did roar more loud,

And the sails did sigh like sedge ;

 

And the rain poured down from one black cloud ;

The Moon was at its edge.

The thick black cloud was cleft, and still

The Moon was at its side :

Like waters shot from some high crag,

The lightning fell with never a jag,

A river steep and wide.

 

The bodies of the ship's crew are inspired, and the ship moves on ;

The loud wind never reached the ship,

Yet now the ship moved on !

Beneath the lightning and the Moon

The dead men gave a groan.

They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose,

Nor spake, nor moved their eyes ;

 

It had been strange, even in a dream,

To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steered, the ship moved on ;

Yet never a breeze up-blew ;

 

The mariners all 'gan work the ropes,

Where they were wont to do ;

They raised their limbs like lifeless tools--

We were a ghastly crew.

 

The body of my brother's son

Stood by me, knee to knee :

The body and I pulled at one rope,

But he said nought to me.

 

But not by the souls of the men, nor by dæmons of earth or middle air, but by a blessed troop of angelic spirits, sent down by the invocation of the guardian saint.

 

`I fear thee, ancient Mariner !'

Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest !

 

'Twas not those souls that fled in pain,

Which to their corses came again,

But a troop of spirits blest :

 

For when it dawned--they dropped their arms,

And clustered round the mast ;

Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths,

And from their bodies passed.

Around, around, flew each sweet sound,

Then darted to the Sun ;

 

Slowly the sounds came back again,

Now mixed, now one by one.

Sometimes a-dropping from the sky

I heard the sky-lark sing ;

Sometimes all little birds that are,

How they seemed to fill the sea and air

With their sweet jargoning !

 

And now 'twas like all instruments,

Now like a lonely flute ;

And now it is an angel's song,

That makes the heavens be mute.

 

It ceased ; yet still the sails made on

A pleasant noise till noon,

A noise like of a hidden brook

In the leafy month of June,

That to the sleeping woods all night

Singeth a quiet tune.

[Additional stanzas, dropped after the first edition.]

 

Listen, O listen, thou Wedding-guest!

`Marinere! thou hast thy will:

`For that, which comes out of thine eye, doth make

`My body and soul to be still.'

Never sadder tale was told

To a man of woman born:

Sadder and wiser thou wedding-guest!

Thou'lt rise to-morrow morn.

Never sadder tale was heard

By a man of woman born:

 

The Marineres all return'd to work

As silent as beforne.

The Marineres all 'gan pull the ropes

But look at me they n'old:

Thought I, I am as thin as air--

They cannot me behold.

 

Till noon we quietly sailed on,

Yet never a breeze did breathe :

Slowly and smoothly went the ship,

Moved onward from beneath.

 

The lonesome Spirit from the south-pole carries on the ship as far as the Line, in obedience to the angelic troop, but still requireth vengeance.

 

Under the keel nine fathom deep,

From the land of mist and snow,

The spirit slid : and it was he

That made the ship to go.

The sails at noon left off their tune,

And the ship stood still also.

 

The Sun, right up above the mast,

Had fixed her to the ocean :

But in a minute she 'gan stir,

With a short uneasy motion--

Backwards and forwards half her length

With a short uneasy motion.

 

Then like a pawing horse let go,

She made a sudden bound :

It flung the blood into my head,

And I fell down in a swound.

 

The Polar Spirit's fellow-dæmons, the invisible inhabitants of the element, take part in his wrong ; and two of them relate, one to the other, that penance long and heavy for the ancient Mariner hath been accorded to the Polar Spirit, who returneth southward.

 

How long in that same fit I lay,

I have not to declare ;

But ere my living life returned,

I heard and in my soul discerned

Two voices in the air.

`Is it he ?' quoth one, `Is this the man ?

By him who died on cross,

With his cruel bow he laid full low

The harmless Albatross.

The spirit who bideth by himself

In the land of mist and snow,

He loved the bird that loved the man

Who shot him with his bow.'

The other was a softer voice,

As soft as honey-dew :

Quoth he, `The man hath penance done,

And penance more will do.'

Posted

PART VI

 

FIRST VOICE

`But tell me, tell me ! speak again,

Thy soft response renewing--

What makes that ship drive on so fast ?

What is the ocean doing ?'

 

SECOND VOICE

`Still as a slave before his lord,

The ocean hath no blast ;

His great bright eye most silently

Up to the Moon is cast--

If he may know which way to go ;

For she guides him smooth or grim.

See, brother, see ! how graciously

She looketh down on him.'

 

The Mariner hath been cast into a trance ; for the angelic power causeth the vessel to drive northward faster than human life could endure.

 

FIRST VOICE

`But why drives on that ship so fast,

Without or wave or wind ?'

 

SECOND VOICE

`The air is cut away before,

And closes from behind.

Fly, brother, fly ! more high, more high !

Or we shall be belated :

For slow and slow that ship will go,

When the Mariner's trance is abated.'

 

The supernatural motion is retarded ; the Mariner awakes, and his penance begins anew.

 

I woke, and we were sailing on

As in a gentle weather :

'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high ;

The dead men stood together.

All stood together on the deck,

For a charnel-dungeon fitter :

All fixed on me their stony eyes,

That in the Moon did glitter.

 

The pang, the curse, with which they died,

Had never passed away :

I could not draw my eyes from theirs,

Nor turn them up to pray.

 

The curse is finally expiated.

 

And now this spell was snapt : once more

I viewed the ocean green,

And looked far forth, yet little saw

Of what had else been seen—

 

Like one, that on a lonesome road

Doth walk in fear and dread,

And having once turned round walks on,

And turns no more his head ;

 

Because he knows, a frightful fiend

Doth close behind him tread.

But soon there breathed a wind on me,

Nor sound nor motion made :

Its path was not upon the sea,

In ripple or in shade.

 

It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek

Like a meadow-gale of spring--

It mingled strangely with my fears,

Yet it felt like a welcoming.

 

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,

Yet she sailed softly too :

Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze--

On me alone it blew.

 

And the ancient Mariner beholdeth his native country.

 

Oh ! dream of joy ! is this indeed

The light-house top I see ?

Is this the hill ? is this the kirk ?

Is this mine own countree ?

 

We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,

And I with sobs did pray--

O let me be awake, my God !

Or let me sleep alway.

 

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,

So smoothly it was strewn !

And on the bay the moonlight lay,

And the shadow of the Moon.

[Additional stanzas, dropped after the first edition.]

The moonlight bay was white all o'er,

Till rising from the same,

Full many shapes, that shadows were,

Like as of torches came.

A little distance from the prow

Those dark-red shadows were;

But soon I saw that my own flesh

Was red as in a glare.

 

I turn'd my head in fear and dread,

And by the holy rood,

The bodies had advanc'd, and now

Before the mast they stood.

They lifted up their stiff right arms,

 

They held them strait and tight;

And each right-arm burnt like a torch,

A torch that's borne upright.

Their stony eye-balls glitter'd on

In the red and smoky light.

 

I pray'd and turn'd my head away

Forth looking as before.

There was no breeze upon the bay,

No wave against the shore.

...

Then vanish'd all the lovely lights;

The bodies rose anew:

With silent pace, each to his place

Came back the ghastly crew.

The wind, that shade nor motion made,

On me alone it blew.

 

The rock shone bright, the kirk no less,

That stands above the rock :

The moonlight steeped in silentness

The steady weathercock.

 

The angelic spirits leave the dead bodies,

And the bay was white with silent light,

Till rising from the same,

Full many shapes, that shadows were,

In crimson colours came.

 

And appear in their own forms of light.

A little distance from the prow

Those crimson shadows were :

I turned my eyes upon the deck--

Oh, Christ ! what saw I there !

Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,

And, by the holy rood !

A man all light, a seraph-man,

On every corse there stood.

This seraph-band, each waved his hand :

It was a heavenly sight !

 

They stood as signals to the land,

Each one a lovely light ;

This seraph-band, each waved his hand,

No voice did they impart--

No voice ; but oh ! the silence sank

Like music on my heart.

 

But soon I heard the dash of oars,

I heard the Pilot's cheer ;

My head was turned perforce away

And I saw a boat appear.

[Additional stanza, dropped after the first edition.]

 

Then vanish'd all the lovely lights;

The bodies rose anew:

With silent pace, each to his place

Came back the ghastly crew.

The wind, that shade nor motion made,

On me alone it blew.

 

The Pilot and the Pilot's boy,

I heard them coming fast :

Dear Lord in Heaven ! it was a joy

The dead men could not blast.

I saw a third--I heard his voice :

It is the Hermit good !

 

He singeth loud his godly hymns

That he makes in the wood.

He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away

The Albatross's blood.

Posted

PART VII

 

The Hermit of the Wood,

 

This Hermit good lives in that wood

Which slopes down to the sea.

How loudly his sweet voice he rears !

He loves to talk with marineres

That come from a far countree.

 

He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve--

He hath a cushion plump :

It is the moss that wholly hides

The rotted old oak-stump.

 

The skiff-boat neared : I heard them talk,

`Why, this is strange, I trow !

Where are those lights so many and fair,

That signal made but now ?'

 

Approacheth the ship with wonder.

 

 

`Strange, by my faith !' the Hermit said--

`And they answered not our cheer !

The planks looked warped ! and see those sails,

How thin they are and sere !

I never saw aught like to them,

Unless perchance it were

Brown skeletons of leaves that lag

 

My forest-brook along ;

When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow,

And the owlet whoops to the wolf below,

That eats the she-wolf's young.'

 

`Dear Lord ! it hath a fiendish look--

(The Pilot made reply)

I am a-feared'--`Push on, push on !'

Said the Hermit cheerily.

 

The boat came closer to the ship,

But I nor spake nor stirred ;

The boat came close beneath the ship,

And straight a sound was heard.

 

The ship suddenly sinketh.

 

Under the water it rumbled on,

Still louder and more dread :

It reached the ship, it split the bay ;

The ship went down like lead.

 

The ancient Mariner is saved in the Pilot's boat.

 

Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound,

Which sky and ocean smote,

Like one that hath been seven days drowned

My body lay afloat ;

But swift as dreams, myself I found

Within the Pilot's boat.

Upon the whirl, where sank the ship,

 

The boat spun round and round ;

And all was still, save that the hill

Was telling of the sound.

I moved my lips--the Pilot shrieked

And fell down in a fit ;

 

The holy Hermit raised his eyes,

And prayed where he did sit.

I took the oars : the Pilot's boy,

Who now doth crazy go,

Laughed loud and long, and all the while

His eyes went to and fro.

`Ha ! ha !' quoth he, `full plain I see,

The Devil knows how to row.'

 

And now, all in my own countree,

I stood on the firm land !

The Hermit stepped forth from the boat,

And scarcely he could stand.

 

The ancient Mariner earnestly entreateth the Hermit to shrieve him ; and the penance of life falls on him.

 

`O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man !'

 

The Hermit crossed his brow.

`Say quick,' quoth he, `I bid thee say--

What manner of man art thou ?'

 

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched

With a woful agony,

Which forced me to begin my tale ;

And then it left me free.

 

And ever and anon through out his future life an agony constraineth him to travel from land to land ;

 

Since then, at an uncertain hour,

That agony returns :

And till my ghastly tale is told,

This heart within me burns.

 

I pass, like night, from land to land ;

I have strange power of speech ;

That moment that his face I see,

I know the man that must hear me :

To him my tale I teach.

 

What loud uproar bursts from that door !

The wedding-guests are there :

But in the garden-bower the bride

And bride-maids singing are :

And hark the little vesper bell,

Which biddeth me to prayer !

 

O Wedding-Guest ! this soul hath been

Alone on a wide wide sea :

So lonely 'twas, that God himself

Scarce seeméd there to be.

 

O sweeter than the marriage-feast,

'Tis sweeter far to me,

To walk together to the kirk

With a goodly company !--

 

To walk together to the kirk,

And all together pray,

While each to his great Father bends,

Old men, and babes, and loving friends

And youths and maidens gay !

 

And to teach, by his own example, love and reverence to all things that God made and loveth.

 

Farewell, farewell ! but this I tell

To thee, thou Wedding-Guest !

He prayeth well, who loveth well

Both man and bird and beast.

 

He prayeth best, who loveth best

All things both great and small ;

For the dear God who loveth us,

He made and loveth all.

 

The Mariner, whose eye is bright,

Whose beard with age is hoar,

Is gone : and now the Wedding-Guest

Turned from the bridegroom's door.

 

He went like one that hath been stunned,

And is of sense forlorn :

A sadder and a wiser man,

He rose the morrow morn.

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