Like one, that on a lonely road • Doth walk in fear and dread,

And having once turn'd round, walks on, 'And turns no more his head: Because he knows, a frightful fiend 'Doth close behind him tread.

'But soon there breath'd a wind on me,
'Ne sound ne motion made:

Its path was not upon the sea
In ripple or in shade.

'It rais'd my hair, it fann'd 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 sail'd softly too:
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze-
'On me alone it blew.

'O dream of joy! is this indeed The light-house top I see!

'Is this the hill? Is this the kirk? 6 Is this mine own countrée ?

"We drifted o'er the harbour bar,
And I with sobs did pray-
'Olet 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.

• 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 straight and tight;
And each right-arm burnt like a torch,
A torch that's borne upright.
Their stony eye-balls glittered on
• In the red and smokey light.

head away

'Forth looking as before,

There was no breeze upon the bay, • No wave against the shore.

"The rock shone bright, the kirk no less That stands above the rock:

The moonlight steep'd in silentness
The steady weathercock.

And the bay was white with silent light, 'Till rising from the same

• Full many shapes, that shadows were, • In crimson colours came.

A little distance from the prow
Those crimson shadows were:

'I turn'd my eyes upon the deck--
'O 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 wav'd his hand;

'It was a heavenly sight: They stood as signals to the land, Each one a lovely light:

This seraph-band, each wav'd his hand:

No voice did they impart,

No voice; but O! the silence sank • Like music on my heart.

• Eftsones I heard the dash of oars,
I heard the Pilot's cheer;
My head was turn'd per force away
And I saw a boat appear,

◄ 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.

VII.

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 countrée.

• 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.