third stanza, for instance, the original text has the two following: But still he holds the wedding-guest- He holds him with his skinny hand, For a full study of the different texts, see Prof. F. H. Sykes' Select Poems of Coleridge and Wordsworth, edited from Authors' Editions, Toronto, 1899. On the origin of the poem, see Biographia Literaria, Chap XIV, and Words worth's account of it, quoted and discussed in H. D. Traill's Life of Coleridge, pp. 47–50. 1 In the editions of 1798 and 1800 only. 2 An ancient Mariner meeteth three Gallants bidden to a wedding-feast, and detaineth one. [This and the following notes, except those in brackets, are Coleridge's running Summary of the story, first printed in Sybilline Leaves, 1817.] 3 The Wedding-Guest is spell-bound by the eye of the old seafaring man, and constrained to hear his tale. And through the drifts the snowy clifts Did send a dismal sheen: Nor shapes of men nor beasts we kenThe ice was all between. The ice was here, the ice was there, It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like voices in a swound! 1 At length did cross an Albatross, It ate the food it ne'er had eat, 2 And a good south wind sprung up be hind; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, white, 1 And I had done an hellish thing, And it would work 'em woe: For all averred, I had killed the bird, Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay, Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, The glorious Sun uprist: Then all averred, I had killed the bird Twas right, said they, such birds to slay, That bring the fog and mist. The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow followed free; We were the first that ever burst '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, Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; Water, water, everywhere, The very deep did rot: O Christ! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs About, about, in reel and rout His shipmates cry out against the ancient Mariner, for killing the bird of good luck. But when the fog cleared off, they justify the same, and thus make themselves accomplices in the crime. The fair breeze continues; the ship enters the Pacific Ocean, and sails northward, even till it reaches the Line. The ship hath been suddenly becalmed. "There passed a weary time. Each throat Was parched, and glazed each eye. At first it seemed a little speck, It moved and moved, and took at last A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! 4 With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, We could nor laugh nor wail; I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, With throats unslaked, with black lips baked. Agape they heard me call: 1 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. The shipmates, in their sore distress, would fain throw the whole guilt on the ancient Mariner: in sign whereof they hang the dead seabird round his neck. 3 The ancient Mariner beholdeth a sign in the element afar off. 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. 1 The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out. 2 We listened and looked sideways up! The stars were dim, and thick the night, The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white; From the sails the dew did drip- 3 One after one, by the star-dogged Moon, And cursed me with his eye. 4 Four times fifty living men, 5 The souls did from their bodies fly,They fled to bliss or woe! And every soul, it passed me by, PART IV 6" I fear thee, ancient Mariner! I fear thy skinny hand And thou art long, and lank, and brown, I fear thee and thy glittering eye. This body dropt not down. No twilight within the courts of the Sun. At the rising of the Moon, * One after another • His shipmates drop down dead. But Life-in-Death begins her work on the ancient Mariner. * The_Wedding-Guest feareth that a Spirit is talking to him. For the last two lines of this stanza. I am in debted to Mr. Wordsworth It was on a delight fal walk from Nether Stowey to Pulverton, with him and his sister, in the autumn of 1797, that This poem was planned, and in part composed Note of Cae19, first printed in Sibyllin Leares, 1817 But the ancient Manner assureth him of hi boolly "fe, and proceedicta to relate his horribi perance. 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, 3 The cold sweat melted from their limbs, Nor rot nor reek did they : The look with which they looked on me An orphan's curse would drag to hell But oh! more horrible than that Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And yet I could not die. Her beams bemocked the sultry main, But where the ship's huge shadow lay, 1 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. 2 O happy livings things! no tongue A spring of love gushed from my heart, 4 The selfsame moment I could pray ; PART V "Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing, 5 The silly buckets on the deck, I dreamt that they were filled with dew; And when I awoke, it rained. My lips were wet, my throat was cold, Sure I had drunken in my dreams, I moved, and could not feel my limbs: I thought that I had died in sleep, 1 By the light of the Moon he beholdeth God's creatures of the great calm. 2 Their beauty and their happiness. 3 He blesseth them in his heart. The spell begins to break. By grace of the holy Mother, the ancient Mariner is refreshed with rain. |