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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.

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“ Dear Lord! it has a fiendish look

(The Pilot made reply) I am a-fear'd..." Push on, push on!

6 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 !

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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 stil, 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.

O Wedding-guest ! this soul hath been

Alone on a wide wide sea :
So lonely 'twas, that God himself

Scarce seemed there to be..

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