The Skiff-boat ner'd: I heard them talk,

Why, this is strange, I trow!

"Where are those lights so many and fair "That signal made but now?

Strange, by my faith! the Hermit said— "And they answer'd not our cheer.

"The planks look warp'd, and see those sails "How thin they are and sere!

"I never saw aught like to them "Unless perchance it were

"The 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.

N

"Dear Lord! it has a fiendish look

(The Pilot made reply)

"I am a-fear'd.--" Push on, push on! "Said the Hermit cheerily.

The Boat came closer to the Ship,
But I nor spake nor stirr'd!

The Boat came close beneath the Ship,
And strait a sound was heard!

Under the water it rumbled on,

Still louder and more dread:

It reach'd the Ship, it split the bay ;
The Ship went down like lead.

Stunn'd by that loud and dreadful sound,

Which sky and ocean smote:

Like one that hath been seven days drown'd

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 mov'd my lips: the Pilot shriek'd
And fell down in a fit.

The Holy Hermit rais'd his eyes
And pray'd where he did sit.

I took the oars: the Pilot's boy,

Who now doth crazy go,

Laugh'd 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 mine own Countrée

I stood on the firm land!

The Hermit stepp'd forth from the boat,
And scarcely he could stand.

"O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy Man!" The Hermit cross'd his brow

Say quick," quoth he, I bid thee say "What manner man art thou?

Forthwith this frame of mind was wrench'd

With a woeful agony,

Which forc'd me to begin my tale

And then it left me free.

Since then at an uncertain hour,

That agency 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;
The 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.

Wedding-guest! this soul hath been>

Alone on a wide wide sea:

So lonely 'twas, that God himself

Scarce seemed there to be..