But, swift as dreams, myself I found Upon the whirl, where sank the Ship, I mov'd my lips: the Pilot shriek'd The Holy Hermit rais'd his eyes 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, "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!" But in the Garden-bower the Bride Which biddeth me to prayer.. Wedding-guest! this soul hath been So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seemed there to be. O sweeter than the Marriage-feast, 'Tis sweeter far to me To walk together to the Kirk To walk together to the Kirk While each to his great father bends, Farewell, farewell! but this I tell He prayeth best who loveth best He made and loveth all. I |