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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.

PART VII.

The hermit of the wood,

515

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.

520

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,
66 Why, this is strange, I trow!
Where are those lights so many and fair, 525
That signal made but now?”

the ship

Approacheth “Strange, by my faith!” the hermit said, with wonder. 66 And they answered not our cheer!

The planks look warped ! and see those sails,
How thin they are and sere !

530

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.”

535

“Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look-
(The pilot made reply)
I am a-feared "-"Push on, push on!”
Said the hermit cheerily.

540

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.

545

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.

Mariner is saved in the

Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound, 550 The ancient Which sky and ocean smote,

pilot's boat. Like one that hath been seven days drowned My body lay afloat ; But swift as dreams, myself I found Within the pilot's boat.

555

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570

And now, and in my own coantree,
I stooi on the firm land!
The hermit stepped forth from the boat,
And scarcely he could stand.

The ancient Marines earnestly entreateth

575

“O shrieve me, shriere me, holy man!”
The hermit crossed his brow.
- Say quick," quoth he, “I bid thee say-
What manner of man art thou?”

to shrieve

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched
With a wosul agony,

Which forced me to begin my tale; 580
And then it left me free.

Since then, at an uncertain hour
That agony returns :
And till my ghastly tale is told,
This heart within me burns.

And ever and anon throughout his future life and agony constraineth him to travel from land to land;

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.

590

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!

595

O wedding-guest! this soul hath been
Alone on a wide wide sea :
So lonely 'twas, that God himself
Scarce seemed there to be.

600

O sweeter than the marriage-feast,
'Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company !-

605

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!

610

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

And to teach, Farewell, farewell! but this I tell

To thee, thou wedding-guest !
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.

615

615

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.

620

He went like one that hath been stunned,
And is of sense forlorn:
A sadder and a wiser man,
He rose the morrow morn.

625

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